“Your cabin,” she says. “Are you keeping it tidy?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tolin.”
I sigh. “I have someone from Shadow Suds staying theweekend. She’s making sure everything is in place for hibernation. You don’t have to worry.”
Her eyebrows rise. “She?”
“It’s just a cleaning service. Don’t read into it.”
But she’s already reading into it. I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes, the questions forming that I don’t want to answer.
“Come here,” she says.
“Mother—“
“Come. Here.”
I cross the room to stand in front of her, feeling like a cub again despite towering over her by more than two feet. She reaches up and takes my face in her hands, tilting it toward the light.
“You look different,” she murmurs.
“I look the same as I always do.”
“No.” Her thumb brushes my cheek, just below the scar. “Your bear is stirring. I can see it.”
I try to pull back, but her grip is surprisingly firm. She stares into my eyes, and I know what she’s seeing. The faint golden glow at the edges of my irises. The sign that my bear is close to the surface.
“Have you found her?” she asks softly. “Your fated mate?”
“No, Mother. I have not.”
She gives me that look. The knowing one. The one that says she sees right through me.
I laugh despite myself. “Mom. I have not found her. I would tell you if I did. You’d be the first to know.”
“Would I?”
“Yes.” I gently remove her hands from my face. “There’s no mate. Just a cleaning lady who’s probably regretting every life choice that led her to my cabin right now.”
Mother doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go. She turns to the stove and starts loading containers into a bag.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending you home with food.”
“I don’t need?—“
“You need.” She shoves the bag into my hands. “I’m not sure your helper knows how to feed you. The last one kept putting too much seasoning on your meat. Nearly ruined a perfectly good elk steak with all that garlic.”
I roll my eyes. “That was months ago.”
“And I’m still upset about it.” She adds another container to the bag. “This should last you a couple of days. There’s venison stew, roasted root vegetables, and some of that brown sugar honey bread you like.”
The bag is heavy in my hands. Full of her love, her worry, her desperate need to take care of me even though I’m a grown man who’s been on his own for years.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
