He looked at her. His hair was still a mess and in the bright morning sunlight, he looked more handsome and more human than she had ever seen him. "I guess I'm asking you to trust me," he said. Thalia looked up at the clouds now, opening like a curtain to reveal the glorious orange orb in the sky, the full moon already forgot, still not sure, her heart still beating erratically. She knew what Lathan was, she had always known. She had seen him two nights earlier when the men in the village had captured him, seen the animal that he was. Lathan pulled her closer, through the bars of the cage that was now his home. Everyone in the village was glad that he was captured, glad that by the setting sun he would be dead. Thalia couldn't help herself though, bringing him water. "I'm not an animal, trust me," he said again, and she looked down at the earth, wet, the grass wild. He was looking at her, into her. "You're a werewolf," she whispered. She could think of nothing else to say.