“Who knocked?” Laura asked Diana again, taking a sneak peek through the curtain. We just noticed that Peter was no longer in the sitting room.

“Uncle Dim. I don’t know why he is here though.” Diana answered calmly as if she was talking about the weather, as if she didn’t just utilize a gift that was impossible to humans, to ordinary werewolfs, to me.

A gift of prophecy? I was not sure what to term it.

When Laura’s mind processed the name that her daughter had given her, she stood up agilely from her seat and strolled out of the dining room.

Well, I was unsettled too. If Dim was...