Book 19: This Is Real

Oakley

There’s something odd about Dr. Alex Scarlett, the world-renowned paleomicrobiologist with shocking blue eyes, pale skin, and hair so black it has a slight blue tint in certain lighting, but it’s not his looks that are throwing me off. 

He’s been watching me in silence for the better part of an hour while people I don’t know flutter around me, talking about me without talking to me. I find his presence slightly reassuring. I also have come to the conclusion that his proximity has awoken my dormant wolf for the first time in weeks, who is now writhing and silently warning me that danger is very near. 

He is the danger, which seems strange and wrong. 

The only time he moves, and I mean at all, is to rise from an armchair nearby to refill my teacup. Even then, he glides with a quiet grace that be