Cody laughed.
I turned to my pack and sighed. “I need to do something,” I told them quietly. “I need you to kneel.”
Would I be a petty man if I admitted, only to myself, that I was disappointed that Cale didn’t refuse? He was one of the first to kneel. Was I ashamed that I wanted him to be one who rejected me? The answer to both questions was yes. It didn’t make me feel better that I acknowledged it.
When it was over, I gave them the same promise I had given at the Hollow. I would never subject them to it again. Unless they acted against me.
I saw Cody’s glance when I added that. I felt the unspoken rebuke. He knew exactly why I’d done it.
The weariness was less than when I’d done this at the Hollow, but it was a smaller number of people to hold under my Will.
The pack and I made our way to the shelters. I hadn’t been home in a long time, and it saddened me that I didn’t feel the same sense of home here when I approached as I did at the Hollow. A few more of the pack surrounded the first three shelters. I nodded in greeting, but the sense to check the Grumps was strong.
Pushing their door open, I saw one sitting with her knitting needles, the other rubbing his neck, as a reminder of what had almost happened.
Grandfather looked up, his sightless eyes meeting mine. “So, a son. On her first heat with you? You were always an ambitious wolf.”
Grandmother giggled. It was an unsettling thing to hear. “Cat’s out of the bag now,” she said. “Smelled wrong, that one. She’ll smell better now.”
“Good, you bedded her properly.” Grandfather nodded as he continued. “Needed it, she did.” He tapped at his neck absently. “Was a bit high-strung, if you don’t mind me saying so. The magic needed out.”
I turned around and closed the door to their shelter, seriously wondering if I could get back to the Hollow before the break of midnight if I left now. Instead, I crossed the floor and sat opposite the Grumps.
“Tell me everything you know.”
Chapter 10
Wolfe
The Grumps didn’t movewhen I sat down.
They never did. Age and attitude had given them the confidence of wolves who knew no one in their right mind would dare try to make them.
Grandmother kept knitting, needles clacking like the ticking of a very judgmental clock. Grandfather tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, humming tunelessly under his breath. It sounded like a lullaby, if the lullaby had been written by someone who hated children.
“Really?” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You’re going to make this difficult, aren’t you?” I asked them. Neither of them indicated they’d heard me. “Or…prove me wrong? You know it’s your favorite thing to do,” I teased. Grandmother’s lips twitched. “Could you start talking?”
“Start talking?” Grandmother’s needles never stopped. “You’ll need to be more specific,” Grandmother chirped. “We know many things.”
“Too many,” Grandfather muttered. “What would you like us to talk to you about? The migration pattern of theblue jay? How about the spawning pools of the salmon? Or Grandmother was just telling me the other day about?—”
“I want everything you know about the Hollow.” I leaned forward. “About the Pack Council. About the last time they tried something like this.”
Grandmother paused mid-stitch. Her eyes lifted to mine.
Sharp.
Ancient.
Knowing.
“Ah,” she said softly. “So the meaty part of the pie.”
Grandfather snorted. “Told you the boy wouldn’t be able to avoid it. You were wrong.”
“Wrong?” Grandmother sniffed. “I saideventually. Not immediately. There’s a difference.”
I glared. “Either of you want to explain tomewhat the hell you’re bickering about?”
