“Why don’t you come back to my place after this and I’ll cook us both something?”

“I’d love that.” Griff smiled down at me.

I looked up again at Micah. His hazel-brown eyes were still fixed on me. I got up and pulled Griff with me out of the control room and into the passenger area to avoid Micah’s gaze. He was a beautiful specimen of a man, but I didn’t understand why he was looking at me so unashamedly. It occurred to me that maybe—since he was a werewolf, and also from the supernatural realm—I shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. Maybe their manners were just different. The fact was that until Kiev’s arrival on the island, I’d never encountered a werewolf in my life. They intrigued me, but I had no idea how they behaved. They seemed to be less reserved than vampires.

Whatever his reason for staring at me, I didn’t feel comfortable and was happy to retreat to the passenger room toward the back of the submarine while we travelled back to the island.

Griff and I let the others exit first. Micah was the last we were waiting for. He picked up his fish net and dragged it up through the hatch, some fish still alive and flapping. We followed after, Griff pushing me up first. Ben and Abby were already making their way toward Shadow, who was waiting on the sand. Micah stopped midway along the jetty and turned back to face us.

“I was going to roast some of these.” He gestured to the fish. “Just thought I’d invite you both to join me.”

I’d been looking forward to spending some quality time with my best friend, but I wasn’t sure how to turn Micah down without sounding rude. He already knew we were hungry and I intended to cook for Griff and myself.

I looked after Ben and Abby. They’d already disappeared into the woods with Shadow.

I looked at Griff. He shrugged.

“Thanks. That would be lovely,” I said. I reached out a hand and Micah shook it, his grip wet and intense. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“Oh,” he said, smiling, “I doubt there’s anyone on this island who doesn’t know who you are, princess.”

I brushed my hand against Griff’s shoulder. “This is Griffin.”

Micah and Griffin shook hands.

“Where do you plan to cook?” I asked.

“On the beach. Nothing like cooking in the fresh sea air.”

We walked along in silence for a few minutes before Micah stopped on a particularly rocky part of the beach.

He laid the fish down on the sand and ran over to the boulders a few meters away. He grabbed two large rocks—one beneath each arm—and walked back over.

“Thanks,” I said as he set the two stones down for me and Griff to sit on. He returned to the spot and came back with one more for himself. Then he fetched a fourth longer slab and placed it between us. He collected some wood from the forest nearby and, with two pieces of flint, started coaxing a fire to life. Griff and I stood in the direction the wind was blowing, helping to block its force as the fire gathered strength.

I wondered what kind of life Micah had lived back in the supernatural realm. Clearly they’d learned to be resourceful. They didn’t seem to take anything for granted and my mother had commented how happy and grateful they seemed just to have roofs over their heads.

Griff and I watched as Micah went about cleaning the fish in the sea and, after removing a dagger from his belt, began preparing them.

I cleared my throat. “I take it you’re used to eating fish.”

He looked up at me and nodded with a smile.

It wasn’t long before Micah was handing both Griff and I platters of roasted fish. No salt. No seasoning. Micah sat down with a platter of his own opposite us and began to dig in.

Since Griff wasn’t making much conversation, I asked another question.

“So, uh, how do you become a werewolf? How does it work? Is it like with vampires where you get infected? Are there Elder werewolves?”

Micah swallowed a mouthful before replying.

“We have no Elders, unlike vampires. We are a species in our own right. And despite the folklore, it’s not true that humans can turn into werewolves. We’re not like vampires where we can infect others with our nature. You’re either born a werewolf, or you’re not. We have humanoid features, but even in our daytime forms, we are not truly humans.”

“Do you have your own realm in the world of supernaturals? Like The Sanctuary? Or Cruor?”

He nodded again, biting into another large fish.

“What’s it like?”

“Mountains, forests, open fields… And plenty of wild animals.”

“Do you eat just animals?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We don’t have a chance normally to eat much else. I’ve never tried human flesh before. Can’t say I’m not curious to try it. Though I’ve heard that it ruins the taste of animal meat forever. Humans are rare in our realm. The witches tend to hog them all. Either the witches, or the ogres who have a way of getting large supplies of them… More?” he said, eyeing Griff’s and my empty hands.

“No, thanks.” I looked at Griff.

“No, thanks,” he said.

“I hope it was to your liking,” Micah said, more to me than to Griff as he glanced at me sideways. He went about preparing seven more large fish for himself before continuing. “So anyway, you don’t have to worry about that with us. As much as it’s tempting, we’re well practiced at surviving on animals. I believe there’s only one werewolf in the whole pack who’s tasted human flesh before.”