The grumbling gets louder, some growls thrown in. My wolf alerts, his fur prickling up my spine. He’s not mad. He’s ready for a challenge that he can actually win. He’s on a solid losing streak with Nuria Devon.

I soothe him with the promise of venison and our mate. She’s still standing in the entrance, baffled and blushing as she worries the tip of her braid.

The elders are lining up with their plates, perfectly content with the new set up.

I grin at my mate, and I restrain myself from asking if she’s happy now. Instead, I gesture her toward my accustomed place in front of the fireplace....