Two weeks after the birth, I finally convinced them to let me leave the den.
"You're still healing," Lyra had protested that morning, watching me strap on my boots with disapproval written across her face.
"I've been healing for fourteen days." I adjusted the sling that held Lucian against my chest. "If I spend one more hour staring at these walls, I'm going to shift and tear them down myself."
Selvara snorted from where she was sharpening knives by the fire. "She's got a point. We've been treating her like glass. Woman killed a man with her teeth. She can handle a walk in the woods."
"A walk in the woods when scouts are actively watching us," Lyra countered. "When we know Serenya's already reported back to the Heartlands. When..."
