Charles had understood from the beginning that his da left when he could no longer look upon the son that his mate had loved more than she loved life. Those around him had given him other reasons, but Brother Wolf had known, and anything Brother Wolf understood, so did Charles. There had been nothing special about the trip Da had begun that had ended with him bringing home his new mate, though later Bran had claimed he’d needed to find a mate to make his wolf stable after Blue Jay Woman’s death.

Only in his own thoughts did Charles use his mother’s name. He thought that was safe, that it wouldn’t call her back from the land of the dead.

“You could not stay,” Charles said softly. “I know.”

Their eyes met—and it was Bran who looked away.

“I was running as wolf in the mountains, the wolf in charge, when I heard the call.”

“A summons?” Charles asked.

Bran shook his head, thought about it a moment, then, unexpectedly, grinned as he nodded. “Yes. I suppose. I have no idea how he knew I was nearby. That was very early on—there were maybe ten werewolves west of the Mississippi. Possibly only two.” He looked at the wall of books behind Charles. “All that territory and there we were with less than twenty miles between us. Sometimes I have to admit I believe in fate.”

He looked at Charles again. “I had decided not to come back for fear of what I would do. Had that wolf not called me …”

The room hung in silence for a moment.

“I know,” Charles said.

His da’s wolf was not like Brother Wolf, who reasoned as well as Charles himself did, though sometimes with a wholly different perspective. His da’s wolf would have destroyed the thing that took his mate from him, and his da had been running out of the willpower to stop him. The only option his da had was a final one. “I knew. Brother Wolf told me.”

Bran nodded. “Of course.”

Silence lingered between them. Charles had the feeling his da wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. When Bran spoke again, it was to continue the story.

“My wolf spirit and I were battling, the wolf ascendant when I heard my … heard him call me.” Bran pounded a closed fist on his chest.

“Heard whom?” Charles asked, though Da had dropped enough hints.

Bran smiled faintly. “Sherwood Post.”

Charles nodded.

“He didn’t call himself that then, of course,” Bran said.