Whitebark Stream Lumiere, darling.

He looked at her with quiet affection, reflected on how far he'd come since his return to the Teekon and how much they'd grown together. He thought fondly of the pack they led and the cubs they'd welcomed, and as always he wondered how he had been so lucky to find her. For so long, Artyom had been sure that the ache of losing Anastasia so suddenly could never fully heal - until Dawn came along to be the balm he'd needed.

She "booped" her nose among the pale fur of his shoulder and, with a playful rumble, the Alpha shifted to mouth the peppered guard hairs along her nape. They settled together on the riverbank and Artyom's gaze sought that of his mate once more, as his dense tail swept across the pebbles at his rear.

"I love you too," he told her easily, knowing it to be true right at the heart of him. His courtship of her had come so fast, so sudden, and he regretted nothing. "I am glad you chose me that night," he added, with a suggestive arch of his brow at the memory.