FROM staring at the sleeping figure of her son, Uno’s eyes went to the door when it opens.
Winona smiled at her when their eyes met. She appeared to be unscratched. Her alpha mate approached their bed.
“How is he?”
“He’s fine. He cried when he saw me. He was looking for you.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.”
“Me, too.”
Uno placed the stary hair from Twain’s face. Faint pink lines on his right cheek and forehead as well as the busted lower lip were the evidence of his previous ordeal.
“Thank you.”
Her alpha mate sent her a smile before giving her a peck on her cheek. Winona left her and went to the bathroom.
An hour ago, Twain arrived in the pack with Tati. Despite the filthy appearance of her son, she was glad that he was finally in the territory.
Like a little boy that he was, he ra
