Page 114 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Her attendant left, and Fern tried not to call her back for the company. Being alone seemed harder now since her shift. So she spoke to her as if she were there, still working behind her, and finished her meal with Adela’s “ghost” as her companion.

When she was finished, she dressed in her new nightgown, took her book, and then crawled into her nest—all courtesy of Reinn.

Not her alpha.

But at least her wolf was satisfied, sighing loudly in her mind.

Fern laughed as she burrowed into the blankets and pillows. Okay, okay, you were right. We did need this.

I am always right. It’s better to accept this now.

She rolled her eyes and began reading, finding a handwritten note on the title page.

Your alpha has already let the Council know you’ve agreed that some isolation is in order to help everyone adjust, and that no one is to visit you.

How dreadfully dull for all of us.

At the very least, I’ll have your attendant drop off some things for you to read, so that I might finally have someone I can talk to at these awful Sabletail feasts.

Hope you “agree” you’ve had enough isolation soon.

-Reinn

The text blurred as tears filled her eyes, and she closed them for a moment, not wanting them to fall and stain the paper.

It would be so easy if she could just hate the alpha who’d claimed her. Truly, Darion had done nothing to earn her respect and everything for her enmity, but her body still leaned towards him when he entered the room. Still craved his touch, his attention. Still longed to hear his voice.

She held her eyes shut and counted to twenty, letting the sorrow come and go, and then opened them, trying to ignore the pain as she started on the first chapter.

There was a time when no door could keep a wolf out, because every wolf wore a human face…

A line connected the first passage to another note. A comment, really. Underlined twice.

Terrifying.

Fern giggled, snuggling deeper into her nest, and she read on to see what else Reinn had added.

Chapter 26

Fern

In the Age of Second Light, it is written that wolfkin grew hungry and turned their strength upon Solas’s creations.

As punishment for the shedding of his kin’s blood, fertility among the clans waned, and the songs of new life grew faint.

Lurei, moved by sorrow, created a new aspect to soothe the fracturing hearts of her wolfkin children and restore balance to the broken cycle of birth.

Reinn had circled that passage, adding a little comment.

It’s talking about you, sunbeam.

She smiled. Her porridge was sweet, her hair was clean and combed, and her body was dressed in one of her new gowns.

There was a bathing room—well, glorified bathing closet—attached to her sleeping quarters, and she’d been able to wash and relieve herself without needing to leave.

Useful. Private.

And lonely.