Fen's lower lip trembled, a subtle quiver betraying his vulnerability. The moment Lisa darted forward to shield him, the boy's posture shifted, as if her presence alone gave him courage.
His small shoulders straightened, chest puffed out, and for a brief heartbeat, he seemed larger than he was, as though fangs had sprouted from his tender wolf-heart.
At least she cared for him—he believed that completely, with all the fragile conviction that only a young wolf could possess. Unlike Audrey, his so-called "terrible" mother, who had dared to discipline him, to enforce boundaries he didn't want to obey.
"Dad," Fen said, his voice quivering but defiant, puffing his chest in a desperate attempt to assert authority, "are you really punishing me just because of Mom? I only broke her stuff by accident—but she hit Lisa! She was about to hit me too!"
His eyes flashed, wounded pride mingled with a stubborn spark of rebellion.
