Sumy’s POV
I woke to sunlight slicing through the curtains and the clock on the dresser blinking 9:00 a.m. My mouth tasted of sleep and last night’s heat; I hadn’t bathed since...well, since last night. He didn’t even wake me. For a second a cold, stupid thought slid through my head: maybe he ran away now that I finally want him.
No. Don’t think that, I told myself, hard. Maybe he went to find a house for us — something comfortable for when my pup is born — or he’s registering our names in the pack. As it's the rule to register in a pack that isn’t your own; it’s for security.
“Good morning, Aunty Sumy,” Cynthia’s voice cut through my thoughts like a bell.
I turned and saw her sitting by the door, hair mussed, a toy clutched in one fist and a square of chocolate in the other. Even thou
