Page 140 of His Hungry Wolf

“Let’s go inside. We have a lot of stuff to cover,” Cage said leading me in.

With the door closed, I looked around at the space. I didn’t know what to expect after Cage’s warning. It was certainly nicer than I was picturing.

As a kid, not only did we live in upstate New York, but we spent a lot of time in the Bahamas. My dad bought a private island where I could learn how to control my shifts without anyone getting hurt.

As part of his plan to domesticate me, my father would take me to eat in the homes of locals. They were on what were called the Out Islands and were usually very modest. Not only was Cage’s cabin bigger than many of them, it was also nicer.

Of course, I couldn’t explain any of this to Cage. So, instead, I said, “It must have been cool growing up here.”

“It was okay. If not a little isolating.”

“I know what you mean. My dad owns an island with only the house on it. So, replace the trees surrounding this place with water and the birds for sharks, and you have every one of my summers since I was three,” I said with a smile.

“Did you say that your father owns an island?”

I froze realizing what I had said. Not only was Cage looking at me like I was a freak, someone on the couch in front of us turned around and stared at me. He captured my attention immediately. I didn’t know why.

Was it his smell? He didn’t smell like Cage did. His scent was totally different. It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before.

Cage followed my gaze and said, “Dad, this is Quin. He’s my…”

I was whipped out of my fascination with his father to feel a rush wondering how he was going to describe me.

Cage paused making me more than anxious to hear how he was going to describe me.

“He’s my good friend. He’s helping me pass the class I was telling you about.”

“It’s good to meet you, Sir,” I said to the red-headed man.

Cage’s father looked me over, grunted, and then returned to watching TV.

“We should go to my room,” Cage told me.

“It was good meeting you, Sir,” I said getting nothing in reply.

Entering Cage’s bedroom, he closed the door behind us.

“You have to excuse my Dad. He’s having an off day.”

“He seemed fine to me.”

“Well, fine is relative. We can sit on the bed.”

I took off my shoes, emptied the contents of my backpack into the center of the bed, and sat cross-legged. Cage joined me searching my eyes.

“What?”

“Are you expecting me to forget that you just said that your father owns an island?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that.”

“It’s small. Everyone in the Bahamas owns an island.”

“Everyone in the Bahamas owns an island?” Cage asked shocked.

“Okay, that’s not true. I don’t know why I said that. Actually, that’s not true either. I do know why I said it, it was because I don’t want you to think we’re that different.”