The ceremony on the square broke up slowly, in the deep quiet way of a pack that had a great deal to think about and very few words ready for any of it.
Erin did not let go of Corin's hand.
She had meant to. She had told herself she would, the moment the last head came up. She was the Luna now; she was meant to stand at her own height, walk on her own feet, not cling to her husband like a girl. But the truth was that her knees were not quite steady under her, and Corin's broad warm fingers had not loosened around hers, and so she let the small private grip stand and walked up the long flagged path back toward the packhouse beside him.
Ivara met them at the door.
Ivara had not been at the square. Ivara had been upstairs the whole time, with Lio. She came down the wide stone steps now in
