“Se—SELF-INDULGENT PITY?!” Kirastasia barked back the words with an indignant spike of her hackles, irises flaring with amber fire in the low light of the den. Her forelegs, trembled, paws hot with the desire to strike “Henadin” across the maw—except really that was Kah’s maw, and the snowbird could not yet bring herself to physically harm her northern star. Even though her northern star had just burned her past the bone. Instead she settled for a low growl that simmered and bubbled in her chest, fangs glinting to show this imposter that her patience was only so strong. If this pompous oaf thinks of insulting me again . . .

Except, unfortunately, Kira had to admit that what this “male” spoke was true. She had felt hurt, yes, when Kahlan so frostily ignored her during the pack meeting . . . but it was the shock as much as the actual action that contributed to Kirastasia’s pain. This morose, hard, scathing Kahlan was not the same gentle-eyed healer that Kira fell in love with. Whatever warmth had once suffused Kah like an ocean of sunshine had withered . . . festered . . . until the only reasonable choice, at least in the she-wolf’s perspective, was so shut away emotion altogether. Kirastasia couldn’t even properly appreciate that Kahlan had truly cared for her—maybe even fallen in LOVE with her—because of this dirty fact. She felt as if “Henadin” had revealed a juicy slab of meat from behind his back, only to yank it away because it had already spoiled.

“It’s horrible but Kahlan has done to herself. But I didn’t leave.” Kira blurted out the words, meaning them to sound affronted and angry . . . but instead a hazy question mark hovered in the air, uncertainty hanging like a pall over the confidence of her voice. It was the strangest thing . . . Kirastasia did not remember leaving, much less deciding to leave in the first place. Yet she clearly had absconded from Blossom Forest, because she had returned to its land only this winter. How does one abandon somewhere and not recall doing so? Once more her mind grew foggy, light, memories locked where she could not touch them—and dancing ever farther away when she reached into the murk to fish them out. The brindled brutale had been too high to worry about this significant gap in time not recorded by her brain. Each moment she attempted to ponder it, something prowled over her like a thundercloud—throwing all her thoughts into deep shadow. An instinctive shudder climbed down her back. Stubborn, the ice princess bit the side of her jowls and pouted, maple eyes narrowing as she dared this “Henadin” to deny her. “I did not leave . . . on purpose. I never meant to abandon my Kah. But . . . but if that’s what she believes, how do I . . . ?” Striped toes gripped the dirt floor anxiously—the mistress of seduction wholly out of her element. “How do I convince her to believe me when she thinks I can’t l-love?” Her tongue tripped over the word, tears threatening to spill again. She glared at the stranger in Kahlan’s body. “What makes you so sure, Henny, that I’m the key to fixing her?”

She didn’t want Henadin to accuse her of being self-pitying. Not a second bloody time. Yet it was awful hard not to sniffle, ears dropping and posture wilting, as Kira took a hard inner look at herself. She had only ever disappointed everyone around her. Kershov thought her a disgrace. The only Alpha she had thought she could respect in Malignant had decreed her a useless hussy. Kirastasia wasn’t used to any form of responsibility because she had never had any—and nobody had ever trusted her enough to give her some. She desperately wanted the old Kahlan back. Or at least a version of Kah who was not miserable, and who could smile and laugh and walk around as if a boulder had not been strapped to her back. Where did the fishnet punkette even start? Especially if the act of saving Kahlan might put her in even more danger?

Kira waited until Henadin was clearly done speaking, his throat working as he rested his—Kah’s—voice. “You’re putting a rather large amount of pressure and faith on some slut who slept with your sister. Are you absolutely sure you don’t have any other options for bringing her back?” A cocky, sultry affect had overtaken the pallid damsel’s previous nervousness; now she regarded Kahlan’s headmate with a lifted brow and a slowly sweeping tail. She did not want to think about the risks of saving Kah—so she didn’t, blinking back at Henny as if bored out of her skull. Finally she yawned, bowing forward to stretch out her spine and slink closer to her love’s body. She leaned forward, muzzle snuggling into the silkiness of Kah’s throat fur. A wicked smile adorned her lips as she gazed up at Henadin through Kahlan’s eyes. “What am I saying? Of course you’re sure. Who better to rescue my darling than me?”