Chapter 6. On The Record

The silence in the apartment stretched until the refrigerator’s uneven hum felt loud enough to shatter glass. Gabriel sat at the other end of the couch, exactly where he had been when the gold first appeared in his eyes.

Except now, nothing about him was ordinary.

In the quiet light of her living room, his dark eyes bled into a bright, unmistakable gold.

“A werewolf.”

Diana waited for him to smile.

He didn’t.

She looked at the folded paper in her hand, then at the window behind him, where the city continued being the city: a bus stopping at the corner, someone carrying groceries, ordinary people who had apparently made it through Thursday without discovering this.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

“Am I?”