Five years ago, I would have stormed over there and raked my claws across both their faces, let my wolf tear through with all the fury of a betrayed mate.
But now? I simply turned and walked away, my footsteps silent on the frozen ground.
I wouldn't make a scene at my sire's burial grounds. Alaric Ashvale deserved peace, even in death. He had given everything—his territory, his resources, his very life—to secure this bond. The least I could do was let him rest without my howls of grief disturbing his spirit.
When Kael returned, he was holding a Protective Talisman Pendant, the moonstone still warm from being clutched in his fist.
My father had gotten them blessed by the pack shaman himself—one for Kael, one for me. Tokens of protection. Symbols of the bond between our bloodlines.
I handed him the warm cider, keeping my expression smooth as still water.
"Why are your ears so red?"
"Got too cold out there." He rubbed them sheepishly, ducking his head in that boyish way that used to make my heart race. "Sorry for making you wait."
I couldn't tell if his apology was just guilt over the delay—or something else entirely. His scent gave nothing away. He'd learned to mask it well over the years.