With the birth of the pups, Cercatori d’Arte’s resident Turk had become warm and vibrant, a beacon of sunshine every time he strolled through the territory. Levent was more than thrilled about the new additions, filled with a fatherly pride he hadn’t thought himself capable of. Not that he had much to be proud about; his children were still wriggling, blind little things and wouldn’t be capable of walking or talking for some weeks yet. They would spend all their time with Hotaru, nursing from her and being tended to, although Lev made a point to come and see them as many times as he dared without exhausting the new mother.

But Aysun and Aiden were still his progeny, Kartals in blood if not in name. They also cemented his bond to the pack, which he’d originally intended as a temporary home while he sought his true goal. Now—now, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. In a way, immortality could be his when the puppies grew and had puppies of their own, although his mind recoiled from thinking too much of his own death.

The children also cemented his bond to Hotaru. A committed relationship was new territory for the flirtatious merchant, who more often than not was swept from place to place and didn’t even have the time to pursue a steadier relationship. It wasn’t always because he wanted to take advantage of the individuals he was attracted to, because he really did like most of them, but it was in his nature to be flighty. With the blind woman, that was different—half because he had the desire to protect her, and half because he knew she could protect herself. Her personality was so rich that he became swept up and enamored with it, and they had gotten closer as a result of parenthood. He didn’t know if he should call her his mate, as they’d never officially talked about it, but something about raising children together had elevated them to about that point.

He mulled over this as he walked through the forest that blanketed d’Arte territory, chewing on a salted piece of deer jerky and glancing up into the trees. He had a feeling that Wilson was somewhere out in the woods terrorizing small animals, but he would allow the tomcat alone time at least for a while. The rocky relationship with his best friend was the only downside to having a pack and family, but he prayed they could sort things out.

His languid posture shifted when he saw another luperci through the foliage, his scrawny shoulders straightening as he peered at the dark shape. He recognized the girl as the one who’d had so much trouble with her optime form upon their first meeting, although there didn’t seem to be balance issues now.

That was what he first noticed about Keldava, but next to catch his attention was her attire—leather armor and sheaths for knives, as well as a quiver slung over her back. His ears pricked then flattened out to the sides uncertainly, and he let out a woof to announce himself before reaching questioningly out with a hand.

“Has something happened?”

Levent was not wholly unused to jumpiness; Wilson, for example, was a wary creature by nature as a cat surrounded by wolves. He was startled by her response, though, frowning as she denied anything having happened (a clear sign that something had) and bristling at his sudden presence. He wondered for a second if he looked intimidating—but that was a total laugh. He made so much of a point to not look intimidating that he doubted that was the case; he was only a short simpering luperci most of the time, not a threat even when he did have a weapon of some kind on him.

Still, the dark-haired man reached out in a gesture of concern. He was used to communicating through touch, massaging or petting or even just resting a hand on a shoulder to comfort others. He reached out, too stupid to guess from her behavior what the reaction would be, and so his eyes widened when hers did. He blinked as she leaped backward, and yelped a dreadful yelp, and suddenly it was all he could to do stand back and look on with utter horror as the girl hurt herself on the tree. She devolved before his eyes, hunching against the tree trunk and whimpering in a way that only victims did.

A sudden coldness came over the Turk’s eyes, touching the blue to ice-white, but it was a violence directed far from the poor child. He shook his head quickly and crouched next to her, keeping his distance and folding into himself to make himself seem even smaller than he already was. “İyisin, tatlım, you’re fine.” His accented tongue fell into a soothing lilt as he watched her—and didn’t even watch her, kept his eyes innocently off to the side though he watched her from his peripheral vision. He could see the scabs and even the reopened wound on her back, and he very slowly shrugged out of his shirt—praying that the image wouldn’t send her into more frantic hysterics, which would confirm something much worse than he was imagining. He held it out to her, smiling. “If you need to stop the bleeding, feel free,” he said, and his voice grew a bit firmer though he wore the same peaceful smile. “Please, Keldava—tell me what happened to you.”