Some People Are Boys Longer Than Others.

Much Awkwardness Ensued.

It's Easier To Dismiss Ghosts In The Daylight.

Ben Rubbed His Muzzle Over Kyle’s Shoulder In A Way That I Think Was Supposed To Be Reassuring. Kyle Sucked In A Breath. Either It Hurt, Or The Reminder That The Werewolf Was Big Enough To Rub His Shoulder Without Much Effort Wasn’t Exactly Reassuring. “ben, When Was The Last Time You Brushed Your Teeth?” Asked Kyle. Or Else Ben’s Breath Was Really Bad.

Tim Was Dead. And He's Always Been A Loser. I'd Be Damned If I Was Going To Be The Victim Of A Loser - Or Anyone Else.

We’d Spent Years As Adversaries, Two Predators Sharing Territory And A Certain, Unwelcome Attraction. Somehow, During All Those Years I Spent Outwardly Acquiescing To His Demands While Making Sure I Held My Own, I’d Won His Respect. I’d Had Werewolves Love Me And Hate Me, But I’d Never Had One Respect Me Before. Not Even Samuel. Adam Respected Me Enough To Act On My Suspicions. It Meant A Lot.