You watch as Jaxon mutters to himself and tosses his black zip-up hoodie on his bed, the same hoodie he gave you earlier that day to keep the cold Alaskan weather at bay. He turns to face your figure, tiredly standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

"I'm going to kill Flint I swear." He mutters, but you can hear clear as day, his fangs glinting in the light as he runs a hand through his hair.