Aida POV

I'm still reeling from whatever just happened. I've been sitting here in the art room motionless for about an hour just processing it all.

What was that? When I touched hands with him, Argent, it was like a bolt from the electric shock therapy I've had over the years. I can still feel a buzz coursing through my veins. Better than any meds I've ever had. Wow. He needs to bottle that; it would make a fortune.

I hear the loudspeaker announce lunch, and I finally get my act together. Packing up, I head down the hall. I hope he's still here wandering around somewhere.

I want another dose. Another hit of whatever it is he's packing. And maybe I can actually speak to him this time. I must have looked so stupid before. I was so rude. A hot, albeit strange guy, pays me some attention, and I freeze and blow him off. How completely embarrassing.

As I make my way into the open-plan cafeteria, my recent high sinks as I read the lunch menu board and discover that it is yet again the same slop. Great. Mac and cheese. For the umpteenth time. I can smell the distinct smell as I enter the hall. I know some kids here are on high dose meds and can't chew much else, but come on. Every day now for a month? Jeez.

I glance around, hoping the tour group is staying for lunch, but my heart sinks as I don't recognise them amongst the usual crew. I mean, why would they stay and eat here, especially if they catch sight of this slop we're forced to accept?

It's this or nothing, though, so I slide into line and grab a tray. When I reach the counter, I put my plate up in unison with the boy in front of me and a large spoon of goop is slapped onto our plates in perfect timing. Yum. How appetising. I search for a seat and decide on an empty table in the corner before making my way over.

As I sit, I notice an odd aroma in the air, like cinnamon buns and coffee. I immediately search for the source. There's no way my dreams have come true and that they actually have cinnamon buns and coffee available here. Please let it be so. Please ...

I keep looking for the source of the delicious smell and some movement near the back door to the mess hall catches my eye. The most gorgeous guy I have ever seen is standing at the door, surrounded by a hoard of giggling nurses. But he isn't looking at them; he's staring at me.

Argent. What a fucking dream boat.

He nods to the nurses, who all look disappointed as he excuses himself and starts in my direction. But just as he's about to reach me, the loudspeaker goes off overhead, and I hear my name.

"Aidalyn, report to Dr Jasper immediately, please"

Great. Session time. But I wonder why it's so early today.

Argent stops when he sees me rising from the table, confusion etched over his gorgeous face and something else. Disappointment, perhaps? Or maybe that's merely my ridiculous wishful thinking.

He puts his hand up in a stop motion and makes his way quickly over to the table.

Crap. What do I do? Act cool, Aida. Act regular, for God's sake!

"Aida, do you have a minute?" he asks, placing his hands flat on my table. He asks with such a genuine look of concern that I don't know what to do.

"Um, not really. I have to go," I reply, instantly wishing I didn't.

His face drops, and I want to reach up and brush his frown away. The urge to do so has my hands shaking.

"You could walk with me, if you'd like?" I offer before I do something mortifying.

I immediately regret asking when he pauses for a second, and I feel my face flush red with embarrassment. But as I openly stare as his chiselled features, I forgive myself and just go with it. It's not like I'll ever get to be alone with him again.

He shocks the crap out of me when a smile covers his face, and he replies, "Sure.". He stands up straight and takes my tray, dumping its contents into the bin near my table

I start to walk out, and he follows. This is awkward. What do I do now?

I wish I had some cool topic to discuss, but I doubt he wants to talk about which meds I took today and the latest episode of who got straight jacketed this week.

Instead, and surprisingly not completely uncomfortably, we walk in silence down the hall. Oh, man. I feel so odd right now. It's strange. I feel so at ease with him. Just being next to him makes me feel calmer than I have in a long time, and I never feel like that.

He clears his throat as we round the corridor corner. "So, about before, ah, did you hear me?" Argent asks, looking at my face, the cutest furrow of his brows making a dimple show on his cheek.

I'm not completely sure what he's on about.

"Ah, sorry. Just now in the hall you mean? Um, yes," I answer, wondering if he thinks I'm hearing impaired or something.

He shakes his head. "No, in the art room. When I tried to link, I couldn't hear you." He's looking at me as though I should know what he's talking about when in reality, I'm so very lost.

I have no clue what's going on. Oh, crap. Is he actually a patient too? Maybe he doesn't know it. Maybe his huge scary dad left him here for treatment.

"Ah, Argent, I have no idea what you mean, sorry. What link are you talking about? Is that a TV show or something because we don't have much TV time here, and when we do, it's just old DVDs that the nurses give us," I explain, hoping to hell that's what this is and not something to do with a condition he's being admitted for.

"You really don't know? You've never heard of link before?" His eyes search mine with a small amount of desperation, and my heart sinks.

I feel bad for him. This kid is a goner. Straight into single therapy for you, buddy. Too bad. Would have been nice to see him around each day.

"Ah, no, sorry. But I'm sure Dr J. can figure this all out for you during your stay here, don't worry." I try to sound supportive, but on the inside, I'm bitterly disappointed. I give him a pat on the shoulder. Poor kid. Starting treatment for delusions is hard at first.

Argent shakes his head. He gets what I'm putting down and starts to laugh a little. It's a glorious sound. It fills me with so much joy that it's more of a high than any of the drugs I've ever had. But then he stops suddenly, and concern takes over his face.

"No, Aida, I'm not a patient. I'm talking about a trait from our kind. Something we can do to talk to each other, like telepathy. But the specific kind only we can do. You know, our people, werewolves." He explains the last part with a completely straight face, and then I know that he is, indeed, crazy.

Oh, man. This poor guy is in serious trouble. I start to back away from him a little in case he starts having a full-on delusional episode. But as I take my second step, I think about what he just said.

Werewolves.

In all my episodes, I dream I'm a wolf. Like, the wolf and I are one. When the fire erupts in my body during the episodes, it intensifies so hard and fast. As it reaches its peak, I burst apart, and the wolf is free. We exist together. It speaks to me. We are one entire being. And sometimes when I'm the wolf, I see other wolves and I hear them speak to me. But there's no audible sound. The voices are in our heads.

I stare at his face. He's serious. He doesn't look like he is mid-delusion. He looks calm and collected.

What is happening right now?

Am I having an episode? I don't feel like I am. I start to breathe more heavily, and the room begins to spin a little. I'm panicking. I'm hyperventilating. I'm going all out now. Full scale panic attack ahead.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, and it instantly calms me, oddly enough. I breathe in and out, in and out, and after a few seconds, I dare to look directly into his light grey eyes. Argent merely gazes steadily down at me. There's no judgement evident. Something else, an expression I can't quite put my finger on, flashes across his face. I force my body to calm, readying my voice to unleash all my crazy on him. Hell hath no fury like a crazy woman scorned. Or something like that.

What in the ever-living hell is happening?