Rowan didn’t summon her.
He just appeared in the doorway of the pups’ room late the next morning, leaned his shoulder against the frame and waited until Aria finished helping a stubborn little girl sound out “moon” without turning it into “mutt.”
“Again,” the girl demanded.
“Later,” Aria said, closing the book. “Go run before I make you read the big words.”
Groans and laughter, pattering feet, the soft thud of a wooden wolf dropped and immediately snatched back up. When the last pup barreled out, the room dropped into a rare quiet.
“You’re good with them,” Rowan said.
“I’m good at bribing them with stories,” Aria corrected. “They’d listen to a stump if it promised dragons.”
“We don’t have dragons,” he said. “But we do have fences.”
She blinked. “That’s… not the same.”
“I need to c
