Hot first. Then cold. Five witnesses. Five humans who saw a woman become a wolf and lived to carry that back to their settlement. Our secret—generations of it, decades of my work keeping the pack hidden—gone.
My fingers press into my palms. Release. Press in.
Kestria couldn't stay away. Too late now.
Deal with it later.
"—and then she asked if we were okay, which, yes, we're okay, she almost died, we're processing, but then I had to yell at her for the lying which, fair, and then we both cried a little, but she says the wound's healing and she says it usually only takes a few days for wolves to—you're staring."
Her arms cross.
"I'm—"
Shit.
"—checking for injuries."
"On me?"
"You were in a fight."
"I hid under the table." She gestures at it. "Very heroic."
"Effective."
"I thought so." She pauses. "Still staring, though."
"What's your name."
The question surprises her.
"Melori." Blue eyes on my face. Holding. "Mel, if you want. My friends call me that. Which—I mean, not that you're my friend, not that you can't be, I'm not saying you can't be, I'd be fine with it, great even, like who wouldn't want to be friends with a sexy mountain man. Wolf? Mountain wolf? Anyways—you're Kestria's brother and she's my friend so by extension you could be—but also not if you don't want to be, no pressure, I don't need to be your friend, we barely know each other, youcan just call me Melori, that's fine, that's my actual name, so—"
I know.
I've known it for years.
"—so, yeah. Melori works. Or Mel. Whatever you want. I don't care. I'm just going to stop talking now."
"Melori."
"Mel."
"I heard you."
"And you chose the longer version." Her face lights up. "Noted."
That smile.
Don't.
"How long until she can move?"
"Tomorrow morning, probably. Maybe tonight if she pushes it."
I nod and stand. The blanket threatens to slip. I catch it.
Her eyes track the movement. Drop to where the blanket meets my hip.
