Chapter 52

• The quiet timber cabin was once again invaded, but this time, the threat came in the form of two relentless, blue-frosting-covered forces of nature.
• At one year old, werewolf pups were less like human toddlers and more like hyperactive wrecking balls with razor-sharp milk teeth. Alex had inherited Dante’s icy blue eyes and calculating glare, currently sitting on the grass in a miniature linen vest, staring down his smash cake as if evaluating its structural integrity. Ember, on the other hand, was pure Ryder—wild-haired, dark-eyed, and currently face-first in her own cake, her chubby hands smearing red velvet frosting directly onto her father's crisp white shirt.
• "See? Tactical consumption," Ryder announced proudly, scooping Ember up onto his broad shoulders while she shrieked with delight, wiping a massive handful of frosting straight across his jawline. "She attacks her targets head-on."