Chapter 11. Speaking Tongues

ARDEN

“Who does he think he is?” I muttered as I washed my hands in the sink. I caught my reflection and grimaced at how red my cheeks looked. Did I look like this when I spoke to Cade, too?

I shook my head, flicking water off my fingers like I could shake off the frustration with it. “Just because he’s smart and tall, good-looking, and competent…”

“That doesn’t sound right,” I whispered, annoyed with myself. “There’s no reason for him to treat me in such a way when I didn’t even do anything to him.”

With a breathless sigh, I grabbed a paper towel to dry my hands, willing my heart to calm down. I looked in the mirror and forced a smile. “Let’s just eat,” I muttered. “Food will make things better… like it always does.”

I pushed open the restroom door—only to freeze in place.

There was a shadowy nook near the stairwell, dimly lit and often ignored. But now, it held something—or someone—I shouldn’t have seen. I had seen werewolves mid-rut on campus b