Aida POV

"What did you just say?" I asked, my head starting to spin.

I don't give him the chance to answer. I'm mad. I feel nauseated. What did he do? Snoop through my charts? Learn about my episodes and what, decide to use them to play a sick joke? This guy might be hot, but he's a total dick if that's the case.

How dare he waltz in here and make fun of me. Make a joke of my daily struggle to retain some kind of normalcy in this loopy life. Most days it's hard enough just keeping my shit together.

I demand an answer—or at least, maybe an excuse for his behaviour.

"I said, what did you just say? Are you making fun of me? Is this a joke to you? Making fun of people with a mental illness for what, entertainment?" I spit the words at him with as much venom as I can manage.

I stare at his stupidly gorgeous face. He hasn't moved a muscle. If anything, he has the guts to look offended. My hands have balled into fists, and I feel the tension rising in my chest. Great, now I'm heading down the lumpy road of another panic attack.

He steps forward with a tentative step and slowly takes a hold of my wrist, smoothing out my curled fingers and lifting my hand up to his chest. He places my hand on his heart. For a moment, I stop breathing. The sparks have returned. I don't think I've ever been involved in such a simple yet intimate position.

He looks directly at me, his eyes never wavering from mine as he delivers his next words carefully.

"Aida, this isn't a joke. I don't know how you don't know this, but we are werewolves. You are a wolf. I'm not sure what's happening, and I have no clue how you don't know, but I swear, I'm telling you the truth. I can smell it. I know that sounds crazy, but it's a sense we have; we can smell the difference between wolves and humans." He says it so calmly. So matter-of-fact. Like he means the words he's saying even though they sound bat shit crazy. And coming from me, that's saying something.

Argent pauses at that last part. I'm sure he's leaving something out. He does sound crazy, but hey, that's nothing new to me. Crazy is my normal.

He cups my face in his hands. I think I've now forgotten what it was we were discussing because I'm completely lost as I stare into his eyes. He seems so sincere, so serious. I feel like I might fall over. Or pass out. Or both.

And I think I believe him, as nuts as that is. Ah, the beautiful irony.

I move cautiously over to the bench in the hallway and sit myself slowly down. I feel like an invisible weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Watching me closely, Argent walks over and sits down next to me, tentatively watching my reaction.

The speaker overhead crackles, and I suddenly remember that I'm due to see Dr J. Do I tell him about this? Would he believe me?

No. No way. He'll sedate me for sure. He'll say I'm having a delusional break down. Like he always does. More meds. More therapy. More of everything I'm sick to death of. I look to Argent as I'm about to stand up and get ready to try to lie to Dr Jasper's face, and then I hear the speaker announce something.

"Aidalyn Craig, session with Dr Jasper cancelled."

Well, that's a relief. I don't know how I'd do in trying to get through even the next five minutes not thinking about all this, let alone an hour with Dr J. interrogating me.

I feel so lost. Everything I thought I knew about myself, what I was told about my life ... was it all a lie? Am I not unwell? Is Argent in fact unwell? And if he is, how is he having the same delusions as I do?

Argent takes my hand, obviously sensing my internal rambling dialogue, and pulls me to a standing position. His face is calm.

How is he so steady dealing with all of this?

"What are you doing?" I ask, snatching my hand back from him. Damn, that pulse when we touch. What is that?

He flinches a little at my reaction but quickly recovers.

"There is only one way to show you that I'm not lying to you. It might make it worse, and it might make you scared, but I don't know what else to do. I'm going to take you outside, shift, and prove I'm telling you the truth," Argent basically yells in my face before starting to look around. For what, I have no clue.

He seems totally off kilter now. Is he deranged? He begins to drag me down the hallway, and I quickly realise that we're heading towards the exit.

"Wait! Outside? I'm not allowed there," I try to explain, but he's not slowing down at all. And then it's too late because we are barrelling through the exit and down the emergency stairs.

Argent pulls me along like a ragdoll, as if I weigh nothing, and I'm powerless to stop it. As we burst through the exit doors, all I can think is, what the hell does he mean by shift?