Michael

I watch Faye run a comb through her hair, over and over. The golden strands shine like golden silk in the pockets of sunlight shimmering through the curtains. Beyond the glass, knee-deep snow covers the castle grounds in a blanket of pure, untouched white.

Deep inside, I feel a flicker of my wolf rumbling to life.

Faye turns to look up at me as I pull the curtains back just enough to see but carefully avoiding spraying her with bright sunlight.

“You want to shift and go play in the snow, don’t you?” she smiles, setting down her comb.

“How can you tell?” I let the curtains fall again...