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since I bonded with Syd, that is. Our first meeting wasn’t as pleasant, though I was in the employ of the Dumonts at the time. But from the moment I encountered Syd and her family, I knew my life would be changed forever.
    And so it has been.
    Ethpeal and Demetrius join us, the small, white-haired sorcerer as sweetly cherubic as ever, his kiss full on my lips as his crystal blue eyes sparkle. The tang of oranges and chocolate, his signature scent, fills my nostrils. My wolf savors the taste. He’s changed since regaining his sanity. He used to feel thin to me, transparent. But after the battle of the stronghold, when he and Syd defeated Liander Belaisle and the Brotherhood, his mind healed, Demetrius’s spirit blossomed. He’s almost overwhelming to me, now, as though the joy he feels at being whole exudes from his every pore.
    His touch mingles perfectly with Ethpeal’s and I can only imagine how hard it must have been for her to walk away from him so many years ago, to choose Ivan Dumont over the sorcerer she loved to save her family. Fierce pride and love wakes in my heart as I stand there with them. So hard not to love these people whose feelings are laid bare before me. Tears want to be shed, but I am expert at holding back and instead I smile and bask in their presence, as though soaking them up now will sustain me later.
    “Thank you for the lovely outfit.” Meira gestures beside her to the bag I carefully prepared, the pink fur hooded bag I had custom made peeking from the top. “And all the sweet toys. Charlotte, you shouldn’t have.”
    I feel a blush rise on my cheeks. “A friend is a wood carver,” I say, one of my werepack the most talented I’d ever seen. My eyes drift over the stunning creations of wolves and people in the family’s likeness before meeting hers with a shyness I wished I could get over at being complimented. “I’ll tell him you like them.”
    “Like them!” She motions to her father who bends and retrieves one of the wooden statues. Syd’s likeness is perfect, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, with her dark ponytail down her back. “Zuza is a very lucky girl, having a wonderful auntie like you.”
    “Zuza.” I grin. “I love the name.”
    Meira rolls her eyes, lips twisting in a wry smile as she leans in to whisper in my ear. “Well, it’s really Zuzameirhaylynn,” she says. “Stupid demon tradition and their overbearing sense of self-importance. But at least she has a cool nickname.”
    “It’s perfect,” I say, piecing the bits together. “Syd must have been touched.”
    Meira’s nose wrinkles, taking the maturity from her face a moment, the girl I knew shining through. “She doesn’t know yet.”
    “Then your secret is safe with me.” I kiss her softly, heart gaping wide at the gift she’s given me. What have I done to deserve such kindness? And how can I possibly walk away from it forever when all I want to do is make it permanent? Visits won’t be the same. And I’ll never have the connection I do now, not with the weight of the werenation on my shoulders. But I refuse to waste these moments and squeeze her hand, letting her feel my gratitude. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
    Her eyes glisten with sudden tears. “Dear Charlotte,” she whispers before clearing her throat and forcing a smile.
    I listen then to her chatter with her mother and grandmother about her pregnancy, happy to remain quiet, to simply be with these people. And as I do, the last of my resistance fades despite my longing to stay here and never, ever leave.
    It is time to stop running. Doing so, rejecting my fate, would be an insult to the trials and struggles of the people I care about. Each and every one of them has given of themselves to make the world—the Universe—a safer and better place. I’ve learned responsibility through pride and passion from them, that has nothing to do with fear and oppression.
    My question to Syd has been answered for me. How can I turn my back