A Shared Secret

The scent of nightblooming jasmine, usually a balm to my frayed nerves, felt heavy tonight, clinging to the air like a shroud. I sat on the worn stone steps outside the temple’s guest quarters, the cool evening breeze doing little to dispel the heat that simmered beneath my skin. Anna had asked me to wait for her, a request I’d readily agreed to, though my wolf paced restlessly within me, sensing the unspoken shift in the air.

She emerged a few minutes later, a silhouette against the soft lamplight spilling from the doorway. She carried a small, woven basket, and as she drew closer, I saw it held two steaming mugs. The aroma of spiced tea, sweet and earthy, reached me before she did.

"I thought you might appreciate this," she said, her voice a gentle melody in the quiet night. She sat beside me, her shoulder brushing mine, and I felt a jolt of something akin to electricity. It was a dangerous sensation, one I fought to suppress.