Chapter15

#Chapter15

Flipping Fingers

I was never a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or maybe I just hate life no matter what time of the day it is. But that hate is generally more intense during the morning, especially after waking up.

Alastor came by at our house at exactly six in the morning, claiming me as if I'm his belonging that he left at the bag counter in a grocery shop for him to withdraw me right after he's done. Although he did say he'll give me one night, but the least he could do is give me more sleep.

Last night, Alastor didn't say anything but tell me that the last thing I want to do is go to the southern pack. He told me he would let me cross the border if I really wanted to, but only if I go to either the northern or the western packs.

Given that the western is currently inexistent at this point, that only means I could only go north. And I don't want to be up there in the freezing cold mountains.