For the past two moons, I’d lived with Sabine in the great lodge her Alpha mates—Ragnvald and Maddox—had built for her. I wasn’t surprised when I ran to the doors and they opened before me. A dark-haired warrior, clad only in leather breeches and the tattoos that covered his bare chest, waited inside.
“Muriel,” he greeted me. “I’m glad you’ve returned. Your sister Sabine was worried you’d lost your way.”
“I did for a moment,” I told the bland truth; Fergus had led me off the path I knew. Wolves can smell a lie. “Where is my sister?”
“I was about to leave to look for you.” My older sister stood over a great table spread with drying herbs. “Where is your cloak, Muriel?”
“I must have left it in the woods.” Another half truth. Sabine frowned, and I dug in my pouch for the herb that had bee
