The next morning, Nila sat at a small round table in the corner of the room, her fingers curled tightly around a delicate porcelain teacup that felt entirely too fragile for her hands.

Kaelen had been called away at dawn to inspect a broken fence line at the lower sheep pastures. He hadn't wanted to go. His wolf had growled a low, possessive warning against her neck when the Beta knocked on the door, but Nila had gently pushed him out, promising him she would be fine. She wanted to prove she could exist in his house without being glued to his ribs.

Now, she was paying the price for...