"What do you mean?"
Roxy asked, but Zarek didn't answer. He simply shifted his massive frame, pulling the heavy furs up to her chin and pressing a firm, silencing kiss to her temple.
"Sleep," Zarek rumbled. "The night is for resting, Roxann."
Roxy wanted to push. She wanted to demand answers about territorial disputes and whatever "long week" meant, but the exhaustion of coming back and the sheer, overwhelming relief of being surrounded by her mates dragged her down.
As long as she was home, tucked in the center of her pack, nothing else mattered. She closed her eyes and let the darkness take her.
The next morning, however, she truly understood what Zarek meant.
She was awakened not by a gentle kiss, but by a sound that resembled a small meteor striking the front yard.
