Another followed. Jonathan and I, back when we were younglings. Back before the pack had been mine, and we were more to one another than tolerant strangers. We had hunted, sharing our kill.

Sneaking away with Jonathan during the moon's rise was one of the few rebellions I ever attempted when it came to my father. Was it possible that even then, I had known he was my mate, but had buried the knowledge out of fear?

Another scene.

Another one.

Another one.

And then another one, except, this one, like the one of Jonathan and Lou, and the miniature person, this was one that had yet to happen.

One...