Chapter 90

It's been a few days since Seraphina started staying at the pack house. She had been a thorn in my flesh, one I couldn't begin to comprehend.

She'd pretend to be cool with me in front of Clinton and others—by others, I don't mean the Queen—but when we were alone, she'd be worse than the devil himself. I'd feel powerful alone, but each time we were alone and she was around me, I'd feel stuck in place, like a zombie without a mindset.

I couldn't understand the strangeness of it, and even though I'd always tried avoiding her, one way or another, she'd find me.

On several occasions, I had tried telling Clinton what was going on, but I'd always held back. Because, what would I say? I had no evidence, and I'd sooner be dismissed as a lunatic than have him believe my words.

Falcon was displeased at our helplessness, but there was nothing we could do—at least, not yet.

The following day, I prepared to visit the hospital. It had become my routine for days now, and the patients were more than