“This is my favorite cousin, Isaac Cahill.” I disarmed him and took a bite out of the raw vegetable. “Isaac, this poodle really is Cord Graeson.”

“I’ve never met a fanged-out warg,” Isaac said near my ear. “Is it safe to keep him in the house like this? Should you prop open the door or something in case he wants to go out?”

Twirling the carrot in a whoop-de-do motion, I crossed to the entryway and pushed open the screen. With a snort, the wolf sat on his haunches. I cracked the door then returned to Isaac’s side in case Graeson got any ideas. He didn’t dart for the opening like Isaac appeared to hope he would. In fact, Graeson seemed more than content to sit in the middle of the trailer and block me from being able to put up my groceries.

“He acts so…tame.” Isaac placed a hand on my shoulder. “Is this normal?”

The wolf didn’t growl, but he did peel his black lips away from his teeth.

Isaac removed his hand, and Graeson pretended the implied threat had been an innocent twitch of his muzzle.

“I’m not sure what’s normal for wargs,” I admitted. “I’m giving him until bedtime, then I’m unpacking Grandmom’s sterling silverware and forking him until he takes the hint and leaves.”

The wolf’s furry ears perked, but to a new sound or my bluff I wasn’t sure.

“Pumpkin, did you get my rhubarb by mistake?” a breezy voice intruded.

“Mom—” Isaac moved to intercept Aunt Dot.

“Don’t manhandle me, Izzy.” Aunt Dot strolled into the living room, digging bony elbows into our sides as she headed for the kitchen. “I can take care of myself.” Seeing the bitten carrot gripped in my fist, she plucked it from my hand and dropped it into my favorite mug where it sat on the counter. “Slice these things first or you’ll break your teeth. Next time buy the baby ones or matchsticks for snacking.” After patting my cheek, she began sorting the contents of the bag. “Ah. Found it. I’ll buy your carrots next time to square the debt, okay, pumpkin?”

The most pathetic whine in the history of wargdom had her pulling out her glasses and slipping them on her nose.

Waiting for her full attention, Graeson sprawled out and then rolled over, exposing his white downy belly to my aunt.

“He’s good,” Isaac murmured, newfound respect in his tone. At the same time Aunt Dot flung her rhubarb down and hit the floor on her knees, cooing, “What an absolute darling.”

“Aunt Dot, this is Cord Graeson.” Whose tongue lolled from one side of his mouth. “Graeson, this is my Aunt Dot. Bite her, and you will regret it.” Isaac harrumphed. “Bite any member of my family, and you will regret it.”