Amelia had left Michael—and old Mrs. Bogdins, it turned out—in the small parlor room right off the foyer. While Mrs. Bogdins was sitting having tea on one of the sofa chairs, his mate was standing near the center of the room, looking at the painting above the big fireplace in the room. It had been painted long before Jack was born, by Gordon`s mate and Jack`s grandmother, Nina. To outsiders, it would look like a woman stroking a large wolf`s head under moonlight. But to Jack`s family, it was a self portrait of Nina and Gordon in his wolf form, the night they had proclaimed their love for one another.
Jack had always been uncomfortable looking at that painting, not caring for the blatant, fairy-tale romance it displayed so proudly. But now, looking at his mate standing under it, gazin
