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“I’ve seen plenty of nothing. Trust me, this is something.”

“Doesn’t have to be something,” insisted Ash.

Kip hummed and kept right on petting. “Tell me somethinganyhow.”

Ash mumbled, “She has blue eyes.”

“That she does. Unusual, but understandable, given her mixedheritage. Jiro and Tamiko—their mom’s Japanese.”

Ash relaxed into Kip, who’d been his best friend forever. “Herfather probably has blue eyes.”

“He does. I remember him, too. Abel and his apple fritters.”The squirrel’s belly rumbled, and he asked, “What do you want for supper?”

“Not hungry.”

“Classic symptom of a heart in peril. Are your sort knownfor love at first sight?”

“How should I know?” he grumbled.

Kip lifted his face and kissed his nose. “I’ll talk toTyrone. He’s about our age. Or Cyril, if you’d rather.”

“I’m not in love!” Ash bit his lip. “Why are you trying tomake this a thing?”

“Because you’re an idiot, and I love you. But I won’t sayanother word about the state of your heart where Miss Reaverson is concerned. Onone condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Pizza for dinner.”

Ash grunted and hoped he could move on half so easily.

EIGHT

Not Enough to Go Around

Roonta-kiv Nightspangle was a rangy she-wolf whosebeauty was somewhat marred by an expression of pure boredom. She looked Melissaover, then sniffed. “Yet another starry-eyed whelp who wants a pet to ride.”

Melissa’s cheeks flamed, but she took the standard receptivestance, showing her new mentor that she was willing to learn.

“Not many prove themselves worth the effort it takes totrain them.” Roonta-kiv took Melissa’s wrist and pushed up the sleeve. “Well,well.”

The cuff covering half her forearm had been a graduationgift from Mom. Supple leather enforced by metal plates, it could stop an arrowor turn a blade, and a clever sheath had been worked into the underside. The slimdagger within was meant to be Melissa’s last line of defense, but Roonta-kiv’sattention had been caught by Magda’s addition.

Three sigil-etched stones gleamed softly in their fittings. Personalwards.

“Armstrong, was it?”

“Yes.”

The she-wolf lost the affectation of disinterest, but theregret in her tone wasn’t any more encouraging. “More than half our Kith are currentlyoverseas, adding to the strength of other packs, safe from the predation offear. And the ratio of hopefuls to whelps is five-to-one.”

A warning she should have taken more to heart.

Reality bit deep as a blade.

Enrollment at Bellwether hadn’t put Melissa on thefast-track to a Kith partnership. Her informal apprenticeship to Roonta-kiv wasshared by sixteen other students, all as eager as she to distinguishthemselves. And Melissa was late to the game. To the chubby, gamboling cubsfrom this season’s litter, she was an outsider. By the time she won the trustshe craved, they would already be paired off with one of her classmates.

Her first day wasn’t all bad. She brushed the shelter’salpha pair by way of introduction. But her training menu involved freshening thebedding in a long line of unoccupied niches. She suspected the older students ofcreating busywork for the new rookie. By the end of the morning, she’d spentmore time with a pen of visiting goats than with any Nightspangle wolves.