The wolf stood and shook, sticking his nose behind my ear when he was done. He nudged me suddenly, the sensation making me both jerk away and giggle. “Cut it out.”

The wolf sat, playacting at repentance.

I heard someone talking through the window and turned to see a man come out of the trailhead, two young girls following along in his wake. The smaller one, her hair in a messy ponytail, yanked on the hem of his shirt. She whined, holding her arms up, causing the man to laugh and scoop her up.

The wolf watched them, his demeanor shifting abruptly back to a solemn sentinel. I had the sense that if the man did anything to cause that little girl distress, the wolf would step in.

So serious. I stroked the side of his neck tentatively, seeing how he felt about the touch. He nudged my wrist with his nose, asking for more. Are you worried he will hurt them? I asked, referring to the man with the little girls.

Someone has to watch, the wolf said back. To make sure there is no reason worry. He spoke with such authority.

And you think that’s your job?

The man helped his girls into a beat-up sedan, laughing as he set the smaller one in her car seat. The wolf watched, ears perked. Yes.

His mind grew distant for a second, and I had the sense he was conferring with Declan. He blinked, head turning to me. It has always been my job.

The wolf showed me something then, flashes of images: Declan as a young boy, holding a younger girl, Zoey, I thought, while she shook in fear. Him, a few years older now, walking back and forth and singing to a small, wrinkled infant. Zoey, slightly bigger now, carrying a second baby, her face grave, as she mimicked her older brother in every movement. She looked at him like he’d hung the moon, the stars, and every inch of inky black sky just for her.

The memory skipped forward. Declan holding Zoey’s hand, feeling the sweat slick her palm, even if she appeared outwardly calm. She wore a filmy white dress and no shoes. Her light blond hair was down, held back by a crown of flowers. It reminded me of the other memory Declan had given me, the one where Eva took him over, but it wasn’t quite the same.

A bigger man stood in front of them and I knew instantly it was Angus. He looked a lot like Declan, but I could see the big differences. Angus held himself differently. Chest puffed out. Chin up. Even standing still, there was an aggressive aura about him, something which telegraphed that this was a powerful man, and he knew it.

Like an Alpha, the wolf whispered. Strong. Not like us.

Declan is strong, I argued, showing the wolf. Angus was a sledgehammer. He knocked down those in his way. Declan got back up. Every time. He stretched his hand out, pulling others up, too. If that wasn’t strength, I didn’t know what else to call it.