. . .

Helissent chooses her purpose.

“Very well,” she says.

“Pardon?”

“I’m OK with this,” she says. “I’m going to be OK with this.”

“Thank God,” her husband says, and sags.

“One rule,” she says.

He blinks. He looks up.

“This isn’t covered by our marriage vows,” she says. “I’m not some wolf-slave to get caught up in your gigantic wolf drama. You can lean on me for anything else, and you don’t even have to ask, but for this — I don’t owe you squat.”

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