Book 4: Wild Connection

Finn

A few minutes ago—time disappeared with all my logical thought, it seems—I was drinking in town with Elian and Howell, just like we do every Haze. They like to consider it an anniversary rather than keeping track of a specific date, and I know that the high of whatever the Moon Goddess is doing will keep me from getting too hungover.

This time, something is different. And I don’t just mean the broken, squeaking bar door I left in my wake. All day, I’ve been strange. Off. Feeling the excitement drain the rest of the castle usually does when a delegation leaves.

When Xander left… shit, I almost wished he wasn’t. Keeping track of him gave me something half-pleasant to do every day.

The deeper I charge into the Haze, though, the harder those thoughts get to hold onto. Any thoughts. Alcohol ribbons through my veins, fuzzing my vision. The seamless slide of muscles under fur and thudding rhythm of my paw pads on the cobblestones become all I a