I hadn’t recalled seeing anyone when we’d arrived last night, but this evening the pack house was a bustle of activity. I was particularly self-conscious as I descended the stairs trailing Evander in the oversized sweatshirt and pants he had leant me. I didn’t want to think about the gossip this would inspire, but I couldn’t help my thoughts. I spotted Bette, the housekeeper I had met my last time here looking askance as she paused in the process of setting places at the long mahogany dining table as we passed. There were nearly a dozen other wolves prowling about: three men gathered around a fireplace in heated, friendly debate, a demure woman in a sweater dress who read a book from the corner of the room, two other men who interrupted our passage to ask Evander questions as we passed- ca
