“Am I not also part of this pack?”

“Ah.” The earl turned his hand over to grip his wife’s in a compliant caress.

“If you ask me, it is not so much Biffy who cannot find his place as Woolsey not giving him the right place to find. You are all thinking of him as you would any new werewolf. He’s not, you understand? He’s different.”

Conall, remarkably, did not jump immediately to the defensive. “Yes, I’m aware. Randolph and I were recently discussing this very thing. But it cannot simply be a matter of Biffy’s preferences. We werewolves are as experimental in our tastes as the vampires, if a little more reserved about the expression of them. And there’s always Adelphus. He’s willing.”

Alexia made a disgusted noise. “Adelphus is always willing. Biffy does not need a lover, husband—he needs a purpose. This is a matter of culture. Biffy has come to you out of vampire culture. Lord Akeldama’s vampire culture.”

“So what do you recommend?”

“Woolsey has managed to accept me into its midst and I am by no means standard werewolf fare.” Alexia played with her husband’s fingers, threading and unthreading them with her own.

“But you are female.”

“Exactly!”

“You are suggesting we treat Biffy as if he were a woman?”

“I am suggesting that you think about him as if he had married in from the outside.”

Lord Maccon gave this due consideration and then nodded slowly.

Lady Maccon realized he must be very troubled by Biffy’s unhappiness to listen to her suggestions with so few protestations.

Alexia squeezed his hand once more and then let go, returning to her meal of apple fritter and boiled arrowroot pudding with melted butter and currant jelly. Of late, her taste in comestibles had leaned ever more in the saccharine direction. Now she ate almost exclusively of the pudding course at any meal. “You think there’s a chance you might lose him, don’t you?”

Her husband did not answer her, which was an admission in and of itself. Instead he busily began tackling a veritable heap of fried veal cutlets.

Lady Maccon chose her next words with care. “How quickly can loner status be established?” She did not want to be perceived as doubting her husband’s Alpha abilities. Men, even immortal ones, had fragile egos on certain subjects. Such egos could be as delicate and as messy as puff pastry. Though rather less palatable with tea. Ooh, tea.

“Wolves can go solitary at any time, but it is usually for a specific reason and occurs within the first few years of metamorphosis. Howlers say it has something to do with early bonding to the Alpha. Often it means the unbonded is too much Alpha himself. I don’t believe Biffy falls into this category, but that is the only thing currently in our favor.”

Alexia thought she spotted the real source of her husband’s concern. “If Biffy becomes a loner, you don’t believe he would survive. Do you?”

“Loners are unstable. They brawl constantly. Our new pup is not a fighter, not like that.” Her husband’s lovely eyes were pained and guilty. This mess with Biffy was his fault. Unintentionally his fault, but Lord Conall Maccon was not the kind of gentleman who shifted blame merely because they were all victims of circumstance.