Fifty-two:
Crimson Ashland
In my head, I was in Castle Lupine. There was a crowd of courtiers there. I was wearing a brilliant, red dress like the cloak that I was forced to wear when I was dragged to Castle Lupine against my will. The crowd parted and there was Catesby. He was wearing a royal blue cloak, and a golden crown of laurels as he made his way to me. Nothing about this moment felt real yet there was only him, and me in this moment together.
Catesby made his way towards me. “You saved me.”
I blushed. “I didn’t save you. I didn’t do anything that anyone else wouldn’t have done.”
“I’m a werewolf,” said Catesby, “I’m the son of your enemy. My brother killed witches in the name of power. Your own people. You didn’t have to save
