“Something good,” Nev said, dishing up another plate of pasta.

“Corrupting the kids already?” Ethan had approached the table. I looked up at him in surprise. I’d been so busy scarfing down food that I hadn’t noticed he was missing from our group.

“What I do best,” Connor said, passing the bottle around again. “Wanna pull up a chair? Really good eats tonight. We should advocate for a longer stay in Italy.”

The addition of Guardians to the Haldis team made for a crowded table, even with the number of Searchers we’d lost in the past several days.

“Taking into account what’s about to go down, I’d hope the food is good,” Ethan said. “Every meal could be our last.”

“Thanks for ruining my appetite.” Bryn stuck out her tongue at him and then smiled at Ansel.

Seeing him briefly smile back at her had more of an effect on me than the limoncello. I crossed my fingers, wishing with every ounce of my being that Ansel really was coming back to us.

Sabine scooted her chair over, making space for Ethan beside her. “Here you go.”

Ethan looked at her and then away. “Actually, I’m not hungry. Just saying hello.”

Without another word, he turned around and left the dining hall.

“Is he always so grumpy?” Mason asked with noodles dangling from the side of his mouth.

Nev elbowed him with a chuckle. “You have no manners whatsoever, huh?”

“I’m a fierce beast, man,” Mason said, wiping tomato sauce from his chin. “What can I say?”

“Ethan’s still a little uneasy around Guardians,” Adne said. “Don’t take it personally.” She was slurping her soup with abandon. It looked like everyone had been getting tired of whatever the Iowan menu had been. What she’d said about Ethan wasn’t clicking in my mind. Ethan had certainly been open with his hatred when I’d first shown up, but lots had changed since then—including his attitude. Even this morning he’d defended us to Silas. So why would he say that and then refuse to eat with us? It didn’t make any sense. My questions vanished when Bryn passed a bowl of luscious fresh fruit.

While the rest of us continued to stuff ourselves, Sabine was picking at her food. She spent about ten minutes making patterns with her pasta before she stood up, mumbling something about being tired, and hurried out of the room.

Watching her go, Connor laughed and shook his head.

“What is it?” Adne frowned.

“Nothing,” Connor said, but he was grinning like a fool.

Suspicion buzzed in my ear like a gnat. Unable to quell my curiosity, I excused myself from the table. I wasn’t sure why I was following her, but something irresistible pulled me after Sabine’s jasmine trail. Plus if I’d tried to eat another bite, I probably would have passed out.

Sabine had followed the curving corridor to the first level’s entrance to the garden. I had an eerie sense of déjà vu, having taken this very path myself last night. I peered through the glass doors, but the garden had bloomed into its full, lush glory in the two days since the Weavers had moved the Academy to Italy. Hanging vines, fruit trees, and thick hedges blocked my view.

I slipped into the garden, shifting into wolf form so I could prowl the paths on silent paws. Guilt nipped at my heels, but I couldn’t fight off the suspicion that something important was about to happen in this garden—something that affected my pack. As an alpha, I had to know.

Moving along the path, close to the hedges so I wouldn’t be spotted, I followed what I thought was the sound of voices. Quiet, but persistent, like the bubbling sound of a distant stream. I’d almost reached the heart of the garden when I caught sight of two figures. Their bodies gleamed ghostly silver in the bright veil cast by the near-full moon. I tucked myself against the trunk of the nearest tree, letting the shadows cloak me.

Sabine paused in front of the stone bench where Ethan was sitting. Ethan continued to sharpen his dagger; he didn’t look up.

“You can’t do it forever, you know,” she said.

“Do what?” He kept his eyes down; the dagger’s blade seemed to glow in the moonlight.

“Ignore me.”

“It’s nothing personal.”

“Of course it is.”

His shoulders hunched slightly at her words, but he didn’t speak.

A rustling of the bushes on the other side of the tree caught my attention. I had to bite down on my tongue so I wouldn’t yelp when a brown wolf slunk from the undergrowth.

Calla?

I bared my teeth at Shay. What are you doing out here? As much as I wanted time alone with Shay, this wasn’t how I’d envisioned it.

I was going to ask you the same thing. When you left dinner, I thought you might be sick and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Then when I saw you go into wolf form outside the garden, I wondered what was up.

My ears flattened. Nothing. Get out of here.

He tilted his brown-furred head at me, green eyes curious and intent.

“I just want to talk with you.” Sabine’s words cut through the night air.

Ethan didn’t move; she stood silently. Waiting.

Shay’s ears flicked as her voice reached us. Is that Sabine? He took a step forward. And Ethan?

Get down! I nipped at his shoulder.

Hey! He bared his teeth, but a moment later his tongue lolled out. You’re spying on them.

I flashed my own canines. Don’t be ridiculous.

That’s a pretty pathetic attempt at denial, Cal. He turned and bellied back into the brush. Besides, there’s a much better hiding place over here. You’ll get spotted for sure where you’re standing.

I stared as his brown body disappeared into the dark foliage. A moment later I scuttled over the ground after him.

Our bodies pressed together amid the thick branches. I let myself snuggle into his fur, enjoying the way our scents blended in the night air. It reminded me of our first adventures together as wolves. Long night hunts after which we’d eat our fill and then curl up together for a nap beneath the shelter of a pine tree or tucked under the huge trunk of a fallen tree. Watching the golden brown wolf beside me, my heart twinged with longing for that freedom. The uninterrupted hours where the wilderness and the world belonged only to us.

Inch over a little more; I can’t see. I pushed my muzzle against his shoulder, making the excuse to wriggle even closer to him.