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“I know too,” I chime in. “He’s at Axel Clan.”

Samara blinks at me.

“You didn’t know?” I grin at her. “He’s over nearly every week for pack dinners.”

She shrugs. “I only ever see him at Sunday dinner.”

I bite back a laugh. “He trains with them several days out of the week.”

I lift my nose when Samara’s scent goes sharp. There’s sweat under her lavender now. What the hell for? I twist around to check Ezra’s face. He has no clue either.

My wolf paces. She wants to dig into this as bad as I do. This girl shows up on my porch without an invitation and stares down her own mother’s temper, but talk of the bears has her ready to bolt? I keep my questions to myself and file them away for later. I’m nosy, not rude.

Samara swallows. “Well. I’ll see you tomorrow. At Axel Clan.” She runs out the door.

“What is that about?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Ezra answers.

I drop it on my way into the kitchen. Whatever that was, it can wait. My mate hasn’t eaten since last night. He eases himself down at the island.

I pull out some eggs and steak meat, then the pans. Cooking for him calms me down. My mother has fed my father for as long as I can remember. She still fixes his plate before she touches hers. I used to roll my eyes at it every time. Now look at me.

I set it all on the stove, but instead of lighting a burner, I turn to face him. “I should have told you about Charity,” I admit.

He leans on the counter. “Why didn’t you?”

I chew on my lip. “I guess I wanted you to know that I could handle it on my own.”

He shakes his head. “But I’m your mate. You have a whole alpha dragon, and still…”

His scent sours, and that’s on me. I walk around the island while he turns on his stool. I take his hands in mine.

“It’s just a name, right?” I run my thumbs over his. “I keep hearing that. It’s just a name. Aya Bailey was not a good witch, but that doesn’t mean the evil carries over to everyone who holds the name.”

I’ve had this argument all my life. My father always said my mother named me Aya to take the name back and make it good. That was the story for a pup. When I got older, Mom told me the rest herself. I love my name because she gave it to me. Some days I still want to ask her what the hell she was thinking. I press my lips together and blink at the cabinets over his shoulder until my eyes quit stinging.

He squeezes my hands. “I want to keep my word and burn Charity’s coven.”

I giggle and lean in to kiss him. “Oh, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t love that. But you can’t do it. You are now the alpha of Ash Clan.”

He steals another one. “And you are my luna.”

“Future luna,” I correct him.

He tugs me in between his knees. “No. You are my luna, and you have been since you were a pup and I a hatchling.”

My scent warms. I don’t bother arguing with him when he gets like this. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says. “But can we just skip breakfast and go back to bed? My wings are still healing, and my back hurts like hell.”

“Okay.” I let go of his hands.

Ezra gets up from his seat, and I wave him toward the stairs. “I’ll meet you up there. Let me put the food up.” Of course he waits for me. I clean up fast and fill a fresh pitcher before I join him. He takes my hand for the climb. I hate that he winces on every step.

I get him propped against the pillows with the water where he can reach it. He’s way too pleased with himself while I fuss with the blanket around his hips. My wolf quits pacing now that our dragon is off his feet.

He keeps jumping out of bed to chase after me, even in pain. If I want him to heal properly, I’m going to have to stay home for a while.