“Tribute is given freely. Bribes have conditions.” She bit into her cookie with the satisfaction of someone who'd won a philosophical argument. “Mama taught me that.”
“Your mama is very wise.”
“I know.”
The cubs scattered across the meadow with their prizes, immediately launching into a new game that seemed to involve running in circles and screaming. The sheer joy of it was infectious. I felt something loosen in my chest that I hadn't known was tight.
Rafe stood slowly, brushing grass from his knees. The dandelion crown was still perched on his head, slightly crushed now from Lily's enthusiastic climbing.
“They're good kids,” he said, watching them run. “Happy. Healthy. You can tell a lot about a pack by how its cubs behave.”
“And what do ours tell you?”
He was quiet for a moment. “That they feel safe. That they've never had to be afraid of the adults around them.” His voice went rough at the edges. “That's not nothing, Daniel. That's everything.”
I moved to stand beside him, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. The afternoon sun was warm on my face, and the sounds of children laughing filled the meadow like music.
A shriek split the air. We both turned to find Emmy on the ground, clutching her knee and wailing with the theatrical intensity only a six-year-old could manage. Sam stood frozen beside her, foam sword in hand, looking horrified.
Rafe moved before I did.
He crossed the meadow in long strides, dropping to his knees beside Emmy with a grace that spoke of practice. “Hey, hey. Let me see.”
“It hurts!” Emmy wailed.
“I know. I know it does.” Rafe's voice was calm, steady. “Can you show me where?”
She uncurled enough to reveal a scraped knee, blood welling up in a thin line. Not serious, but clearly traumatic by the standards of a child who'd never experienced real pain.
“Oh, that's a good one,” Rafe said approvingly. “Very impressive. You know what that means?”
Emmy sniffled. “What?”
“It means you're tough. Only tough warriors get battle wounds.” He pulled a bandana from his pocket, pressed it gently against the scrape. “Hold that there. It'll stop the bleeding in a minute.”
“But it hurts.”
“I know. Pain means you're alive.” He said it simply, without weight, but something in the words made Emmy stop crying and look at him with wide eyes.
“Grammy says that too.”
Rafe glanced up, found Theo hovering nearby with worry creasing his small face. “Hey, commander. Think you can find some water? The warrior needs to clean her wound.”
Theo nodded solemnly and ran toward the pack house, clearly delighted to have a mission.
I watched Rafe tend to Emmy with gentle hands and patient words, and something in my chest twisted. This wasn't performance. Wasn't manipulation. This was someone who'd lost children he cared about, finding echoes of them in the cubs surrounding him.
This was grief, wearing the mask of kindness.
Michael's voice came from behind me. “Didn't expect to find you out here.”
I turned to find him walking across the meadow, two cups of coffee in his hands. He'd been at the pack house all morning, going over security protocols with Evan, and he looked tired but content. The sun caught the silver in his hair, made his eyes warm.
“Cubs ambushed me,” I said, accepting the coffee he offered. “Demanded tribute.”
“Cookies?”
“Cookies.”
