Chapter 95

Summer’s POV

That day bled into a week, then two, and somehow I’d managed to hide in my room for fourteen thrilling days of complete social oblivion. No small talk, no eye contact, no “Hey, you okay?” Just glorious, mute solitude. And then—surprise!—I got bored out of my skull.

By day fifteen, my eyes felt like overused projectors, my muscles staged a rebellion, and my wolf—yes, that insatiable bite of fur and fang that sometimes runs the show—was clawing at the inside of my skull, desperate for freedom. God knows she wanted me to go socialize with her mate, but thanks to this ridiculous climactic lock-down, she was safely dozing. For once, I sympathized with her. All I really wanted was fresh air and maybe a snack that wasn’t trail mix from three months ago.

So there I was at eleven-fifty-eight P.M., telling myself it was “permissible” to venture into the kitchen. Jared was probably deep in REM territory, right? Then why the hell not?

I tiptoed downst