Whitebark Stream we'll build our walls of aluminum

He saw relief in the warmth of her eyes, and Artyom welcomed her to him. Following a peppered kiss to his mate's sterling brow, he shifted enough to press his brow lovingly to her own. Eyelids fluttered closed, the golden Alpha tried to reign in emotion that threatened to overwhelm him and breathed deep the scent of his beloved: blood and herbs, enough to rouse new anger at the beast who dared touch a hair on her body.

"The one who fought with you," he answered, finally drawing back enough to better look upon her face, "he came here to check that you'd made it home." A watery smile then, as he fought to keep himself from crumbling. "I was so worried."

I thought you were dead!

He inhaled, lashed his tail as he swept his dark eyes over the bold Juniper at their feet - what if their daughter had been there? She was often running off into the unknown, how much longer could they confine her to home?

He moved again, eager to wrap his mate firmly in his embrace to convince himself she was really there, that she was okay. His nose poked delicately at a marring of her flesh, and he whined. "Lumiya sent a messenger, who arrived just after your fighter did," he informed, tongue aiming to soothe her aches, "and it seems we are not the only ones to suffer the wolf dog's wrath. The court requests our aid in removing him." He lifted his head, and sought her gaze. Whitebark was not home to warriors and Artyom would not force his packmates to run head-first into danger, but something had to be done about Donovan.

"And I intend to answer."