His wolf is quiet for a few moments, but then he howls again, louder, blustering and bombastic. I don’t need my wolf to understand him. He sounds like any male called on the carpet by his female—it wasn’t his fault the other female came onto him. My wolf’s being too sensitive. Making a mountain out of a molehill. He’s sorry, but he didn’t do anything wrong, and my wolf’s being a real bitch, but he won’t do it again.

Since she’s so mad.

Over nothing.

She has no more time for him. She snuffs and lets herself fade in my consciousness.

He howls like he’s been done all kinds of...