Chapter 22: Late Night Conversation
287words
"You do that a lot," he observed. "Lose yourself in your work."
"Occupational hazard," I said with a small smile. "When I'm onto something interesting, time just... disappears."
To my surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. "I've noticed."
He moved closer, looking at my notes with genuine interest. "What have you found?"
I explained my theory about the moss compounds, showing him the sketches I'd made of the molecular structures. To my surprise, he followed along, asking intelligent questions that revealed a deeper understanding of botany than I'd expected.
"You know a lot about plants," I commented.
"When you live as long as we do, you pick up knowledge," he said with a shrug. "Plants have always been our medicine."
"How long do werewolves live?" I asked, seizing the rare opportunity to learn more.
He hesitated, then answered, "Longer than humans. Two, sometimes three hundred years if we're lucky."
"That's amazing," I breathed. "The cellular regeneration alone must be—"
"It's late," he interrupted, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I'll drive you back."
I gathered my things, disappointed that our moment of connection had ended so abruptly. As we walked to his truck, I noticed him scanning the forest edge, his posture tense.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"Just being cautious," he replied. "There have been... disturbances lately. Signs of intruders in our territory."
"Other werewolves?"
He shook his head. "Humans. Hunters, possibly."
A chill ran down my spine. "Are you in danger?"
"We're always in danger, Charlotte," he said quietly. "That's why secrecy is so important to us."
