BOTHHe suggested it.I had not expected him to suggest it. I had expected the conference room and Ines and the operational planning that the afternoon required. He had looked at me after the conference room cleared and said: training ground, one hour, and I had looked back at him for a moment before I understood.He wanted to see me.Not Seren Voss navigating the packhouse. Not the careful performance of a cover identity. Me. The way I moved when I was moving for myself, the style that was wrong for a pack-raised wolf and right for what I actually was.I came to the training ground in my own gear, not the pack training clothes I had been wearing for twenty-six days, my own. The kit I carried in the bottom of my bag because old habits did not respond to cover stories.He was already there.He was in his own gear too. Which was different from the administrative Caden, the political Caden, the Caden of the east-facing window and the coffee and the settled unhurried authority. This Caden
Read more