Her brow furrows. “I don’t think I should tell you. I don’t want to get in the way of the Fates.”

I snort. “Crone, you’re full of shit.”

She shrugs. “It’s hard to know what’s helping and what’s meddling. There’s no rule book.”

I have no clue what she’s talking about. There are rules. I made them. And folks don’t need help or meddling. Nine times out of ten, they need a swift kick in the ass.

I don’t think this conversation is going anywhere, though, and my wolf and I are agreed that we’ve been too long away from camp.

“Stay gone,” I tell the crone’s back as she...