“On the tongue?”
“Face.”
She nods. “Impressive. If it works. Have you tested it?”
“Not yet. I collected it only this morning.”
She nods again then turns to Jarron. “Perhaps you can help her test it.”
“You want him to weaken himself?”
“If done wisely—his quarters are well protected—I don’t see the harm. It couldn’t last more than, what, an hour or so?”
“On someone as strong as Jarron, more like forty-five minutes.” Maybe less because of the unideal unicorn bone meal.
“All right, young one,” Emil says. “I take back my judgement. You are obviously not limiting yourself in all aspects here.”
I give him a smile. “I’ll consider taking some more ambitious classes next semester,” I offer. If I’m even still here.
“Good.” He clasps his hands behind his back.
“We’re going to take a walk in the courtyard,” Jarron says, his hand resting on the small of my back, guiding me in the direction of the door. “We’ll see you at the banquet.”
His parents bow their heads, and Jarron sweeps me from the crowded room, down a short hall, and out into the silent night.
I breathe in deeply, cool air coaxing the stress from my chest.
“Wasn’t so bad,” Jarron says, nudging me with his elbow.
“Not too bad,” I agree.
The glass covering the courtyard reflects light from the building behind us. The trees are dark, rustling softly. A wolf howls in the distance.
I stare up at the massive full moon.
“They always schedule these near the full moon so most of the wolves scatter. Otherwise, they tend to overwhelm the guests.”
“What about the alpha and his son?”
“There will be a few wolves in attendance today. They’ll be easier to agitate, so I’d suggest you keep your distance.”
“Oh. I thought shifters couldn’t control themselves during a full moon?” It’s well known that they spend the entire night out in the forest this time of the month.
“It isn’t until tomorrow, technically.”
I look up at the moon again. I can’t tell the difference.
“And powerful wolves are still capable of controlling themselves during a full moon. The younger or weaker wolves, less so.”
“Noted.”
We continue a slow walk through the quiet space. We pass a couple kissing on the bench beneath the willow and reach a section of black flowers. There has to be a thousand of them in the hundred square feet.
They’re dark calla lilies. The closer I look the more colors I see. Dark blues and purples, and a few deep reds. “These are the flowers you gave to me,” I mutter.
Jarron nods. “This is my favorite spot at night.”
“It is very beautiful.”
