Because if anyone was going to see me bare, wash me, bless my body and the child I carried, guide me through a ritual older than the walls of this pack house—it should be Helen. At least I knew her. At least I trusted her, even when she was intimidating. At least she wasn’t someone who would stare at me like a stranger… and most importantly, she wouldn’t do anything to hurt her unborn grandchild.
I managed to smile. “I… I’m really glad you’re here.”
For a moment, something flickered between her and Alexander. A subtle look—nothing harsh, nothing dramatic—just the kind of quiet exchange that suggested they had spoken earlier about something, or disagreed about something, or perhaps simply understood each other too well. It passed quickly, but I caught it.
Still, I didn’t care what it mea
