Hushed Willows dead of night

Last for me too!

Boone might have wanted her to add her own voice to his, but Reverie was too wholly focused on him. He was hurt; that was all she could see. And it was frustrating, truly, to see him injured and frightened for the sake of another. Did he not understand that he was more important than any of them?

She fussed over him in silence, but after a few moments of feeling his expectant look upon her, turned to the others to add: Just be careful, please. Don't put my husband in danger again. Reverie was fond of the wolves of Hearthwood. She was. She'd found a steadfast friend in Kyrell, and a loving one in Reina; she appreciated Wayfarer's company and Mae's gifts. Still: she would trade a thousand of them for her husband's safety. Maybe she deserved the hatred that she knew they would hold for her if they ever knew. Maybe Akavir was right about her. She just didn't care.

Reverie had nothing more to add. She only wanted to get Boone back to their den so that she could continue treating his wound.