Swiftcurrent Creek Maybe he love me- Maybe he doesn’t love anyone.

She looked away from his searching gaze—mumbling something about a mistake, and he drew closer, his eyes tracing over her, finding nothing of note physically. Unassuming in most ways, the regal did not consider his presence upon her frustrations and need, and when she finally erupted at what had transpired at the borders, the Mayfair found himself uncertain what to do with the heated insistence of her voice.

“She offered herself to him…?” He trailed off, trying to compose the surprise on his features as he considered the gentle giant that was his co-lead.

Whatever had transpired, it was enough to ruffle Shaara’s emotions—the words she chose were wrought by frustration and anger, he assumed, and he chuffed out a soft sigh at her reference to them as leeches. “Who are the harlots?” If there was breeding behind his back—without the permission from one of the leaders—he sure as hell wanted to hear of it. Their surprise litter from last year and Chusi was not an event he wished to repeat.

“Leeches like who, Shaara? If you mean Kavik, and his pack mates, I think they’ve been pulling their weight pretty well.”