As we moved through the walkway and out the door, Sam kept his eyes on me, and his regard had a weight to it. I didn’t protest. He did it so that no one would see the change in his iris color—but also because when a werewolf as dominant as Samuel meets someone’s gaze with his wolf in the fore, even humans bow their knees. That would be pretty awkward and hard to explain. At this point, we were operating with the hope that it would matter to Samuel that he could come back and practice medicine here again.
