The vehemence with which Askan spoke took the older wolf aback. His head jerked upwards, silver eyes as wide as twin moons. As he studied the beta, he found nothing but open honesty in the man’s face. If there was one benefit to the Selwyn’s readable expressions, it was that it was simple to judge if he was trying to pull a fast one. Frankly, he barely registered the nip at all. It took far longer than usual for him to process the words; they weren’t difficult, but the concept, at its core, was one he’d struggled against for seasons on end.
What was enough?
When would he ever find it?
“I remember,” he croaked, unable to muster up anything else. Remembered very well. But that advice was difficult to take, at least in the moment. Reyes felt like a puppy again, still on wobbly legs as he stumbled forward, wanting nothing more than to rest his chin over his mate’s shoulder and stay there. His tail lashed again. “It’s hard.” Which was no reason not to do it, he suppose, but still. He was tired. He was so tired.
But at least – at the very least – Askan wasn’t about to leave him high and dry for Adelayde, or some other, more well-adjusted wolf.
“You’re the only reason I bother with ‘em. At all.”