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The pack trail crossed an old wooden footbridge near the midpoint. Sloane stopped in the center and leaned over the railing. Water moved over dark rocks below.

“This is beautiful.”

“I thought you’d like it.”

She looked toward me. “Have you brought other women here?”

“No.”

“Because humans weren’t allowed?”

“Because I didn’t want them here.”

Her smile softened. “Are you saying you want me here?”

“Yes.”

She looked back toward the water. “I’m still getting used to that.”

“So am I.”

“To wanting me?”

“To letting someone into the places I kept for myself.”

Her attention returned to me. “Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Even after everything we’ve been through?”

I considered the question. “I regret the lie.”

“So do I.”

“I regret that you believed telling the truth would make us abandon you.”

Her face tightened. “I gave you reasons to.”

“You also had reasons to expect it before you met us.”

She rested her forearms on the railing. “I don’t want to use my parents as an excuse.”

“You can understand where a behavior began without excusing it,” I said. “The Fletchers agreed to dinner with our pack.”

She straightened. “You went today?”

“Yes.”

“How bad was it?” she asked.

“Their son admitted to the smoke bombs.”

Sloane’s relief lasted only a moment before concern replaced it. “Is everyone okay?”

“They will be. The council is involved. Both groups are making restitution.”

“And dinner?” she asked.