“Tell me, what was it like before the wolf king?” I think of Aurora’s story, that there was a time before the packs were united as one. That Evander was born in one of the last such dissenting packs. “I wasn’t born then. I’m not that old.” He must be thinking the same thing. “Are you sure? Given how curmudgeonly you are, I’d guess you’re at least a few thousand years.” He snorts and shifts his weight, facing me. “How old do you think I am, Faelyn?”
