“It’s truly not dangerous at all,” I said, pleading again. “I used to spend all day in La Push with the whole lot of them, and nothing ever happened.” But I made a slip; my voice faltered at the end because I realized as I was saying the words that they were a lie. It was not true that nothing had ever happened. A brief flash of memory—an enormous gray wolf crouched to spring, baring his dagger-like teeth at me—had my palms sweating with an echo of remembered panic. Edward heard my heart accelerate and nodded as if I’d acknowledged the lie aloud. “Werewolves are unstable. Sometimes, the people
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