I paused in the middle of patting down my belt for any weapons I’d forgotten to leave behind. “P-Pardon?”
“He’s being moved to Ghast Prison.”
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Jade
My usual awkwardness died as work mode took over. “Did they decide his crimes were that bad?” I strode back towards him, my stride measured.
“Nope.” The werewolf shook his head. “No one’s been able to decide what to do with him. Humans are still campaigning for him to have a fine and do community service, but there’s no one powerful enough to mind him who has the time to waste supervising him. So Pre-Dominant Harka says it’s taking too long to figure out what to do and she’s spent too many werewolf resources guarding him. She wants to ship him out so the shifters are no longer responsible for him.”
“I see.” I mashed my lips together, thinking.
I didn’t blame the werewolves. Even with the task force members doing the guarding, the shifters had been housing Orrin for almost a month now—maybe a little over?
I’ll have to look at my work calendar to check.
Either way, with no end in sight, it was reasonable to want to send Orrin somewhere that would have an easier time holding him.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that if he was sent to Ghast Prison, even temporarily, we’d never get him to crack. With Gisila’s presence in the hallway, it occurred to me she might make it so Orrin never even reached Ghast Prison.
I tried to discreetly turn just enough to look back down the hallway.
As the werewolf undid the locks and magic on the door for me, Gisila pushed off the wall, waved to me, and strolled in the opposite direction.
Well. I really didn’t like that.
“Good luck,” the burly werewolf said, redirecting my attention back to him.
My awkwardness returned without my fighting instincts breathing down my neck, so I rubbed my hands together and didn’t know what to say. “Um… thanks.”
Focus. This is probably my last shot at Orrin. I can’t waste it.
I took a deep breath, then slipped into Orrin’s room.
At first glance, everything was the same. Same cot pressed against the wall with the meticulously folded blankets, same coffee pot, same boxy end table with an empty food tray on it—though this time there was a used coffee filter left on the plate, too, and the same single chair.
Orrin was seated in the single chair but Orrin, however, wasnotthe same.
He was still seated with his perfect posture, still holding a steaming cup. But… there was something peaceful about him—like a quiet church—that he radiated. He seemed… shiny, for lack of a better word.
Is he happy he’s getting shipped out because he thinks Gisila will save him?
Orrin looked up at me. Technically, he was expressionless, but there was something about his smooth forehead and slow movements that lacked the usual calculated edge and instead oozed serenity.
As I gaped at him, Orrin raised his paper to-go cup and took a delicate sip, and I finally realized his usual hot water was a pale amber color.
My nose kicked in, and I recognized the faint scent of lavender—he’d made some of the lavender tea I’d gotten him from Queen’s Court Café. He’d probably used the coffee filter to filter it.
His aura of peace had me wondering if the barista had unknowingly sold me charmed tea, but the werewolf guard had sniffed it and said it was fine…
Orrin cradled his cup and eyed me.
“Hi.” I awkwardly held my hand up, then yanked it back down and glued it to my side. “I see you’re trying the tea. Is it good?”
“All tea is to be appreciated, no matter the quality,” Orrin said.
