Shadow Mountain honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us

At first, he took the stranger for a ghost. The pale fur like moonbeams, bright eyes even in the dim light. . . His golden gaze widened slightly as he whispered, Agrippa.

But hope died, as they all had, when the wolf came close enough to reveal his younger age and different build.

Not even his lover's ghost could comfort him now.

Hex thought of speaking, but the words didn't come. He just stared instead, watching through the drizzle as the young man—near his own age, he thought—preened and primped.

He was pretty. Even if he wasn't Agrippa.