Page 109 of A Lady’s Guide to Werewolves

“Wait,” Sorcha said. “What’s her favorite food? When she’s not a wolf?”

“Apple pie.”

Sorcha nodded, piling bannock on a plate, with apple slices she warmed hurriedly in the skillet with honey. “Maybe this will help.”

Gretel took the plate, swallowing hard. “If you ever want to become a wolf, Sorcha, I’ll bite you myself.”

“Careful,” Aidan said from behind her, the Alpha rumbling in his voice.

Gretel dipped her head, knuckles whitening around the plate. But she mouthed, I mean it, to Sorcha before rushing away.

“Lorcan is missing,” Sorcha said.

“Aye, so I’ve just heard. That’s three now, after Orla.” Aidan looked so solid and serious, with that line between his brow. She wanted to wrap herself around him. Instead, she offered him one of the warm honey buns. He ate it and three more. “I heard you were feeding the entire Wolf Wood,” he said.

“I was. I’ve run out of butter.”

“Did you eat anything?” he asked.

She paused. “Um.”

“Nothing at all?”

She had licked honey off her thumb, but she was fairly certain that did not count.

“As I thought.” He did not sound surprised, only a little stern, a little fond. He sliced a generous piece from the cheese wheel, then added bread and raspberries, tart like she preferred.

When he made her tea, she thought she might have married him on the spot.

He sat next to her. She leaned into his sturdy warmth, he pressed his lips to the top of her head, and they stayed that way for a very long time.