Turns out adrenaline and a werewolf's mouth are a dangerous combination.
We'd fallen into a rhythm over the following days that felt almost dangerously close to normal — training in the mornings, meals at the long table in the evenings, the careful, deliberate work of learning each other in the spaces between crisis and crisis. The pack had settled, too, in its own uneasy way — the elder from the council chamber still cool toward me, but no longer openly hostile, and Mara had started, cautiously, to include me in small conversations she'd previously reserved for pack members only.
Tonight, after a training session that had left both of us bruised and breathless in equal measure, we ended up sitting on the porch of my cabin instead of parting ways, a bottle of something Killian had smuggl
