I didn't want him to grow up with nothing but rage and bitterness as his companions. I didn't want the joy in his heart to clear out, replaced by an emptiness that not even the bottom of the whisky bottle could fill.

I didn't care about this world, or whatever bullshit Kenai had spewed, but I cared about him.

"But you were so excited, beebee," I murmured, holding my arms open. He didn't need to be asked twice. He climbed up me like an escaped zoo monkey, his mucky paws leaving a trail of evidence against my clothes, and forced my arms closed around him. His nuzzlies, as he liked...