Intelligence glinted in the mature femme’s iceberg eyes as she flicked her gaze across Kershov’s visage. The alabaster Alpha endured her appraisal graciously; wolves that could look at him so openly, without a hint of revulsion or cowardice, were hard to come by. He had to wonder if this crimson-embellished fae had seen worse in her day . . . or if she simply lacked the capacity to feel petty squeamishness over scar tissue. One thing was for certain—the woman had manners. The polite dip of the head she offered the Czar did not go unnoticed or unappreciated. His tail flicked minutely in approval. “Pleasure to meet you properly, Madame Hestia. I’m sure Marx hasn’t had a soldier quite as lovely as you for some time.”

He continued to observe her with reptilian concentration while she spoke with words of spun silk. My, but the dear had confidence. She practically radiated self-assurance, from her firm four-legged stance to the slightly cocky expression lighting up her feminine features. It was as if Hestia believed she were truly the moon’s gift to Abendrot. Very well—Kershov didn’t take her attitude as a stab at his authority, and as long as the damsel pulled her own weight, a little pluckiness might be welcomed in the military. The glacial dragon inclined his cranium, a fang-filled grin teasing the handsome half of his muzzle. “What a speech,” he chuckled: half-banter, half-flattered. “I do not doubt the advantages you will surely seize for this pack with those pretty teeth of yours.” What a treasure! A warrioress with flames dancing in her breast! What fun Kershov would have with this new and fascinating pawn . . .

The child was a different story. Despite its savage reputation, Abendrot was not a gang of heartless pup murders—nor did it make a habit of turning away youngsters without due cause. Kershov knew very well how valuable a young, malleable mind could be, the potential locked within even the most pathetic façade. However, merciless tundra warlord did not run an orphanage. He didn’t believe in charity acts that extended no immediate benefits to his pack. If the she-cub was nothing but a burden . . . Ker’s single onyx orb speared into the petite bird, looking for weaknesses. When she spoke he kept his posture relaxed, betraying none of the interest he felt for her. “Ah, all alone in the world, hm?” The Alpha’s reply wasn’t a caring remark, but rather a factual observation. He reached out a massive forepaw and touched it to the girl’s forehead—testing to see if she’d accept the action as one of kindness or flinch away from fear. “We can teach you everything you’ll ever need to know. You just have to stay in line.”