One more year. Just one more year, I told myself as I dressed. It wasn’t even that long; school was only ten months. My stomach tightened at the thought. Ten months was still a hell of a lot of time. With a slow, deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves. The bruises were gone and nothing hurt, but that would change after today. One more year, I repeated. One more year and I would finish high school and leave for California, never to deal with werewolves again.
Last Updated : 2020-07-27 Read more