The memory moved on: Angus reaching out and shoving Zoey forward until she stumbled in front of a boy and his father. The boy was dressed up, his angular face pale. Flowers in his dark curls. Older than Zoey, I guessed, by at least a few years, but still so young, his face stoic. That was when it clicked—I was seeing a betrothal ceremony. Angus, promising his daughter to another pack.

Zoey tried to step away, but Angus gripped the back of her dress, keeping her in place. There was no escape, not for her.

The memory skipped a handful of months, the days a blur, pausing again on Declan. He was so skinny I could count his ribs, wearing only a pair of too-big shorts, his long hair knotted and wild, stepping through the shadows far back from a dying bonfire. People were singing and dancing, the stars vast and bright overhead.

Magic was so thick on the air, I was surprised I couldn’t see it. Somehow, I knew this was the first time Declan had been human in weeks. He stepped carefully through tall grass, eyes on the fire. Eyes on the woman sleeping curled up on a throne of cushions. Curled up like a child, her face soft. The sight of her made Declan pause, fear coursing through his blood like a second heartbeat.

I couldn’t see Angus; the memory informed me he was still drunk off the magic, long gone on a hunt in the surrounding woods. I stayed with Declan as he snuck away from the fire, feet placed carefully to keep the grass from rustling too badly. When he got close to the tree line, he bolted, trading stealth for speed.

I didn’t know how far he ran, but he was winded and shaking when he got there. Not enough food or sleep, or from the long journey? I wasn’t sure. Possibly both. The asphalt rough on his bare feet as he stepped into the thin light of the parking lot. A gas station—one of those in the middle of nowhere ones that only have a few pumps and a small store. It also had something I hadn’t seen in years—a beat-up payphone.

The sharp scent of urine and less pleasant things assaulted my nose as Declan stepped into the booth, put the phone to his ear, and dialed. He shook from the adrenaline, his heartbeat like a mad thing in his chest. I was so scared for him, this half-feral boy, doing the best he could to protect the people he loved.

Afraid but risking himself anyway.

The memory dissolved and I was back in the SUV, curled up awkwardly in the driver’s seat, crying. The wolf whined and licked my face. I laughed, the sound watery, as I dug a tissue out of the glovebox.

You’re right. I blew my nose into the tissue. You had to be serious. You had to watch out for the pups. Declan had been the adult in his family for a long, long time. I dug my hand into the wolf’s ruff, giving him a good scratch. But not today. Today you can play and I’ll watch out for you. The wolf snorted, like he thought the idea of me protecting him was hilarious.