Her hands lift. Slow. She puts them flat on my chest, wet fingers curling slightly against the damp tunic. Warm skin underneath. Warm pulse.
Mine.
She tips her head up. I can see the moment she feels my heartbeat through the tunic—her eyes change.
Kneeling in mud. Her hands on my chest. Her face open for the first time all night.
"Stop acting like you're leaving."
She looks up at me and her face is—
"Old habit."
I cover her hands with mine and lift them away. Careful.
My thumb brushes her knuckle and I feel her shiver.
The wolf presses forward—harder than usual. I press back. The mud under my knee. Cold water.
The pack that needs its Alpha sharp. Present. Not kneeling in a streambed thinking about the hollow of her—
"Keep teaching Dara."
"You just said—"
"Changed my mind."
I stand, mud releasing my knee, and turn.
Walk.
Chapter 10
The sun drops and the wolf stirs.
Not the wanting. Not the pull toward the stream. The other thing, older. The animal rising under my ribs. Pressing up through muscle and bone.
Hours. Maybe less. The light's already dropping—copper in the trees, sun lowering fast.
Axan meets me at the clearing's edge. Already stripped to the waist. His shoulders tight.
"Hella's got the younger wolves. She'll keep the pups close."
"And Kestria."
"Fed. Resting. Dara checked her wound—said it'll hold through the shift." He glances across the open ground. "The human?"
"What about her?"
"She know what's coming?"
"Kestria told her."
"And?"
"And what?"
He folds his arms, waiting.
