WHAT WAS I THINKING when I chose to bring a thirteen-year-old bloodling to a human meet-and-greet? I berated myself as I sprinted toward the least predictable members of my pack. Sinsa was only six months younger than Lupe, which was plenty old enough to enjoy her first transition by werewolf standards. In fact, Lupe had found her human feet at nearly the exact same age.
Well, I knew what I’d been thinking...even if I now wished I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head in order to knock loose a bit of that deep-seated stupidity. Sinsa was the protector of the pack. She was slow to anger, fast to nurture, and had always made the other bloodlings feel safe. Of course she was the first one I’d thought of when Celia came to me with excitement in her eyes and an ill-fated plan o
