Kade
Dinner goes about how I expect it to.
Which is to say—loud, crowded, and full of wolves pretending they aren’t studying the human sitting at the end of the table.
Our pack house dining room is long and warm, with a heavy wooden table that stretches nearly the length of the room. Plates clatter, chairs scrape, kids whisper too loudly, and the smell of roasted meat and bread hangs thick in the air.
Aria sits beside me, shoulders a little stiff but chin lifted like she refuses to look intimidated.
I respect that.
“Relax,” I murmur, leaning closer so only she hears. “They’re curious. Not hostile.”
Her eyes flick to me, then back to the table.
“I noticed.”
Across from us, Barric raises a mug toward her.
“Don’t mind the staring,” he says with a crooked grin. “You’re the most inte
