RILEY
I got to the facility at five-thirty. Knox met me in the parking lot, and Hunter came out the front door in his regular clothes — the shift back had apparently been faster than the first shift out, because he'd had motivation — and ran across the lot and hit me at full speed with both arms around my waist.
I held him.
He was warm the way children always are after significant physical exertion, and he smelled like himself plus something new, something with more depth to it, the beginning of the particular scent adult wolves carry. I held him for a long time and he let me without his usual commentary about the appropriate duration of hugs.
"You okay," I said into the top of his head.
"Yeah." His voice was muffled against my jacket. "The paws were a lot bigger."
"Grayson says that
