Chapter 3

Zevran followed me gladly to the hearth kitchen. "I am sorry, Lyssa. The cubs and I found them here when we came home."

When I stepped into the kitchen, I found Amarise Wolfhart, Zevran's sister, already at work preparing food.

Zevran's words reminded me that I had forgotten to reset the entry runes and renew the ward stones around our den. Any wolf who knew the old wards could still walk in without trouble, and I had never dreamed that our own kin would exploit that weakness.

Zevran had been a lonely cub.

Unlike Arion, who had always been favored by the family and the pack, Zevran had never been skilled at pleasing others. His kin often ordered him about and bullied him, treating him as a weak wolf who would never win their respect.

Later, I had been drawn to his handsome face and had pursued him until we became mates.

Only after we began to court did I learn how timid he could be, especially around his own blood.

Still, I had already given him my heart, and in time I mated with him. Fortunately, I was strong enough to protect us both.

After our mating ceremony, we left the Wolfcliff Territory and built a happy life of our own, far from their endless meddling.

I rarely spoke with Rhoswen and the others, so their sudden arrival at my den on the Midwinter Moon seemed strange.

Among werewolf kin, the feast night was usually spent with close blood or one's own household. Yet these wolves had come without warning, turned my den upside down, and behaved as if I were their personal servant.

I could not fathom what they truly wanted.

I hurried to Amarise.

"Amarise, let me take over. You are a guest here. How can I let you do all the cooking?"

Amarise was one of the few sensible wolves in the Wolfhart Clan. Unlike the rest, she had always treated Zevran and me with kindness, and she had never used her name or her rank in the pack to look down on us.

"I am sorry, Lyssa. I don’t know why my parents suddenly decided to come here today. I tried to talk them out of it, but they would not listen. I could not stop them, so I thought I could at least help you with the cooking."

I shook my head. "It is well. I don’t blame you."

Worried that my two cubs would stay hungry, Zevran and I quickly prepared a few more dishes and carried them to the feast hall.

Together with what Amarise and Zevran had already cooked, we had more than enough for a fine Midwinter feast. The scent of roasted venison, warm bread, and moon herbs filled the den, but the tension among the pack made the air anything but festive.

When I saw the main feast table was nearly full, I asked Zevran to bring out a small table so the cubs could sit there.

"There is no need," Evander said coldly. "You and Amarise can find somewhere else to eat."

I paused while untying my apron, then laughed in disbelief.

"You eat in my den, yet you tell me to eat somewhere else?"

I raised my brows and stared at him. My wolf stirred at the insult, and I had to remind myself that I stood in my own home, not before the old Alpha on his own ground.

I set both hands on the edge of the table and gripped the cloth, my fingers tightening as I fought to hold my anger in.

Eirene suddenly spoke up, "Why not listen to Lyssa and let the cubs eat at the small table? There is no reason to quarrel over something so small."

I was a little surprised that she had spoken for me, but I did not think much of it.

After Zevran brought out the small table, I chose several dishes my cubs liked and carried them over. Zevran sat beside them and helped feed them, while I returned to the main table and began to eat.

"You eat before your elders? Have you forgotten the respect owed to us as Wolfhart Pack?" Evander said as he slowly sat down.

"Stop looking for a fight. If you want to eat, then eat," I replied impatiently. "You came into my den without leave, made a ruin of my things, and now you would lecture me on pack manners?"

They had already turned my den upside down, but I had endured it because I wanted to learn what they were truly after. My wolf paced inside me, scenting the hostility in the air, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"Zevran has grown wealthy, yet this is all he sets before his blood?" Briona Wolfhart, Evander's other sister, glanced at the dishes and whispered to the wolves beside her. Yet she spoke loudly enough for me to catch every word.

"With the gold he has now, he could surely afford a proper feast for the elders of his pack."

Perhaps Rielle was still frightened by my earlier reaction, because she didn't dare provoke me again.

I went on eating and paid no mind to their complaints. I had no wish to waste my strength quarreling with wolves who had already decided to find fault with all I did.

"Zevran, how can you sit at such a little table?" Arion asked as he ate with obvious enjoyment. Even with his mouth full, he could not stop finding fault with his older brother.

I smiled at him. "Then why not take his place? If you will not do that, hold your sarcastic tongue."

Arion fell silent at once.

"Lyssa, I don’t mean to lecture you, but a female wolf should know how to care for her mate and stand at his side," Isanna said in a disapproving tone. "You are Lady of this household, so you should know your duties. Zevran is a grown male of the Alpha bloodline. How can you let him eat at a small table like a cub?"

I looked at her with pity. "I will say the same to you, Aunt Isanna. Why not take his place? If the main table matters so much to you, you are welcome to trade seats with him."

Isanna looked helpless. "It is disrespectful to make our elders eat at a small table. Every pack has its traditions, and the young are expected to honor them."

"Then it is just as disrespectful to make the master of this den eat at a small table," I replied. "Or do pack traditions only apply when they suit you?"

Evander set down his fork, his rough voice cutting through the talk. "Enough! Stop making trouble!"