George turned to her. His blue eyes widened. His lovely face took on a forlorn, deeply troubled expression. He leaned forwar, and, in a theatrical whisper, said, 'My past is tragic. I wouldn't want to burden you with it. It's a pain I must suffer alone. In the rain. In silence.

A ghastly attempt at a smile, sure to send any normal person to a therapist.

No, you’re not going with him.” I crossed my arms. “Who decided that?” He put on his “I’m alpha and I’m putting my foot down” expression. “I decided.

Im's offspring stare at stars and make clocks that calculate useless happenings like the angle of a hawk's claws as it strikes its prey. They demonstrate their contraptions and everyone marvels. My children get drunk, confuse a herd of cows with an enemy regiment, and slaughter the lot, screaming like lunatics until the entire army panics.

Your ability to remain alive never ceases to amaze me.

Oh no, is it naked time?

It's not your job to die for your Pack! It's your job to make the other bastards die for theirs.