I returned to the room after my shower, my night wear hanging off my hips like usual as I stopped in the doorway. She was nursing, not from a bottle, but her breast. The best possible milk available to his growing form was leaking down his throat as she sang softly to Saffron. His tiny hands randomly flexed, gripping at the bunched-up portion of her shirt as he suckled, cooing quietly between mouthfuls.
Staring, I smiled.
Pack-born wolves knew from childhood that this was a scared moment between babe and mother. Not otherworldly, but soothing in a way that gave the feeling of continuity a path forward. I’d watched my mother, and others throughout Shadow Storm do this as well.
No cover-ups, no complaining.
Nothing but a reverence for the early bonding process.
“Sorry.”
My eyes snapped
