It really wasn't his fault. "Your Majesty!" "Terrible news—Prince Marcus has been returned! He's back!" The Wolf King, Maurice, had just finished repelling the Chitinids. His wounds were barely healed, and he'd been hoping for a rare night of peaceful sleep—until those words jolted him upright in bed. "What did you just say?" He grabbed Roshivo, the Great Elder, by the wrist. "Marcus… He was returned?" Roshivo looked ready to cry. "A clansman just reported it; the prince has come home." If that isn't a return, what is? Maurice's chest tightened. His head throbbed. All that effort, all those dowries piled on to send the boy off—and now he'd been sent back like defective goods. "After everything we paid to get rid of him… how could she send him back?"His vision dimmed; for a moment, he wondered if the Beast God was calling him home. Then he snapped into command. "Roshivo, get in touch with Marcus' huntress immediately. Ask her why she returned him. If she's dissatisfied, we'll meet any request she names. Tell her the Wolf Clan will do anything. Just, please, take Marcus back!" But before Roshivo could respond, a familiar voice thundered from outside— "Maurice! I brought my huntress home! Why aren't you out here greeting her?" Maurice nearly collapsed. He turned to Roshivo, trembling with fury. "Did you hear that unfilial brat? He wants me to come out and greet him?" Outrageous! "Don't stop me. I'm going out there right now to beat some sense into him!" He had to remind Marcus why Frostveil was so cold. Roshivo quickly stepped in, pretending to hold him back. He knew Maurice was all bluster—the man wouldn't dare actually hit Marcus. Not with that twisted ability of his. "Your Majesty, calm yourself," Roshivo said hastily, giving the Wolf King a graceful way to back down. "I think… I heard Prince Marcus say he brought his huntress with him?" Maurice froze mid-step. He blinked in confusion. "What did you just say? Marcus brought his huntress home?" Roshivo nodded. "That's what he said, yes." Maurice groaned. "It's over. This is a return in person. She didn't just send him back—she's here to hand-deliver the refund!" He started pacing in circles, panic mounting. "What do we do? Frostveil's only just recovered from the last disaster! When the Chitinids invaded, it wasn't half as bad as Marcus alone!" Outside, Marcus' voice boomed again, demonic in its impatience. "Maurice! What's taking you so long?" Maurice looked near tears. "Roshivo, what do we do? We can't really make the whole clan pack up and move again, can we?" There was no better home for the wolves than Frostveil.Roshivo was just as anxious, but equally clueless. "Your Majesty, maybe we should go out and… talk to his huntress first?" "I met her when we sent the prince off," he added quickly. "Ms. Emma Tibarn's a lovely woman—kind, gentle, easy to talk to. Perhaps we can reason with her." Hiding forever clearly wasn't an option. Maurice pressed his lips together, steeling himself. "All right. Let's go out. We can't keep her waiting." He took a deep breath. "We'll speak calmly. If she agrees to take Marcus back, I'll give her every treasure the Wolf Clan owns." Roshivo blinked. "Your Majesty—" Maurice cut him off. "Think of it as paying for peace. Better that than relocating the entire clan." "And remember," he added quickly, "I'll act weak, injured, and pathetic. If she sees me looking pitiful, she might feel sorry enough to agree. When we meet her, play along—say I was badly hurt fighting the Chitinids. Not a word of truth, understood?" Roshivo nodded solemnly. "Of course, Your Majesty. I'll fully cooperate." … Outside, Emma sat beside Silas, taking in the grand hall before them. The shadowstone building was far larger inside than it appeared—like a world of its own, reminiscent of the Interstellar Hunter Alliance headquarters. There were mountains and streams, pens full of beasts and herbs, and at its center, an enormous, beautifully crafted mansion. They were sitting now in its main hall. Marcus had told her this was the house his father built for his mother. But his mother had left for "another father's domain" fifty years ago, and apparently wouldn't be back for another ten. "Maurice…" Marcus muttered, frowning when his father still didn't appear. He drew a breath, ready to shout again, but Edric quickly stopped him. "Let's wait a moment," Edric said gently. "The Wolf King's probably busy with… something." He knew Marcus' tongue was sharper than a blade; nothing good ever came out of his mouth. Still, Edric hadn't expected him to talk to his own father that way. No wonder Maurice refused to show his face. If he were the Wolf King, he wouldn't either. Corvin leaned over and whispered, "Marcus, aren't you afraid your dad's going to kill you for talking to him like that?" Marcus slouched lazily in the Wolf King's own chair. "He can't beat me," he replied blandly. "And he won't dare try." Corvin stared at him in awe. "If I had an ability like yours," he said admiringly, "no one would ever dare hit me again either."