The wolves recognized him, though they had surely never seen his like before. They crouched low in obeisance. The mated pair who led the pack whined anxiously, and he told them in a language they understood that he would not usurp their sovereignty as long as he shared the fate of the pack.
So they welcomed him. He made himself known to each wolf in turn, his black-furred shoulders rising above those of the others, twice the height of the smallest beast. Then he sent them away, and became a man for the last time.
He gathered his discarded clothing and laid them in a neat pile upon the virgin ground. With his hands he dug a deep hole, placed the shirt and trousers inside, and smoothed the dirt over the remnants of his humanity.
A snowflake kissed Morgan’s shoulder. Another joined it, and its kinfolk danced and spun out of the sky to offer a final benediction. He ran his fingers over his face, feeling the gauntness and the sharp planes, the scar where a fellow inmate had stabbed him through the cheek and left only the slightest mark. There would be no such mark on the wolf. And the weight in his chest, so long ignored, would shrivel and be forgotten.
With a shrug of his shoulders, he Changed. Snowflakes caught in his fur. The richness of the forest poured over him and embraced him.
Howls rose from the nearest slope. He answered and broke into a lope, covering the broken ground effortlessly. The years sloughed away one by one, like human skin and bone, until his heart lay naked to the world. It froze into a lump of ice, untouched and untouchable.
Now he was truly free.
Chapter 1
Denver, Colorado, June 1880
One by one the members of the Ladies’ Aid Society rose from their chairs and sofas in the Munroes’ grand parlor and took leave of their hostess. Narrow silk and brocade skirts rustled, confining legs that seldom found practical use save to convey their owners from mansion to carriage and from carriage to shop.
Athena Sophia Munroe did not rise to see her guests to the door. She extended her gloved hand and accepted the offered farewells like a queen upon a throne. A queen as luxuriously confined as the most favored consort in a pasha’s harem.
She smiled and found a compliment for each lady in turn, listening to their chatter as Brinkley led them into the hall.
Cecily Hockensmith lingered, waving her fan indolently against the hot, dry air.
“What is to be done about this awful heat?” she exclaimed. “Everyone advised us to go to the mountains for the summer, but Papa did not wish to miss any business opportunities.” She made a moue of distaste. “Business, always business. Is it not frightfully dull?”
“The men do not seem to find it so,” Athena said. She thought of Niall, hard at work in some stifling office while she sat at her ease at home. “It is true that many families do leave the city in the summer. That is why our attendance today was less than it would be at other times. In the autumn, we will have our full complement again.”
Miss Hockensmith closed her eyes and sighed. “We always went to Newport during the summers in New York. Ah, those fresh ocean breezes. How pleasant it was.”
Athena nodded with polite sympathy. “It must seem very different in Denver, with the ocean so far away.”
“Have you ever visited the sea, my dear?”
“I am afraid not. I was to attend school in the east, but—”
“You must go one day, Miss Munroe. You cannot miss it.”
Athena imagined herself by the waves, breathing in the salt air and letting the water bathe her feet. The picture was so enticing that it hurt.
“I would like to take the orphans to the ocean,” she said quickly. “They would appreciate it more than anyone.”
“Ah, yes, the dear orphans.” Miss Hockensmith grew serious, meeting Athena’s gaze with an air of troubled concern. “I hope you won’t mind a bit of sisterly advice. I have been observing you ever since our arrival, Miss Munroe. I confess that I have never seen anyone work as tirelessly as you on behalf of the masses. Why, even our greatest philanthropists in New York did not become so… personally involved in such work.”