Fruits of Our Labor

Seer’s eyes flashed black at the sudden movement and threat of the wolf beside Io. It was only Roan, of course, but being challenged in his own pack and standing between him and his sister would have set Seer’s compass askew. If it wasn’t for Io’s instant deseculation. Pecking a kiss on her husband's cheek, and padding out to greet him.

The Warlord let out a shaky breath, and drew Io in close, wrapping his paws about her in a bear hug, and kissing her cheek, before burying his nose in the nap of her neck. He needed Io. She was so much calm and common sense in his life. He believed there was no storm she couldn’t weather.

“I missed you” he said softly, holding his sister close. Roan might be her husband now, but Seer felt (selfishly) like he had first dibs on her. Io was His find, His sister, His wolf. In the possessive bastards close list, Io was very high up. Perhaps that made him a little unreasonable, especially since Roan had only done right by Io and was clearly in love with her. But… no point over thinking it. Io was home.