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with dinner?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” I may be wild on the surface, but I retained my manners. My flowing skirt followed hers into the kitchen. My other sisters were scattered throughout the house making noise and playing music as loud as they could without getting into trouble.
    “What are we having?”
    “Gumbo. It’s a gumbo kind of day, don’t you think?”
    The colder nights always prompted my mom to make a big soup and tonight was gumbo. Of course, she’d gathered the shrimp herself. And the venison in the sausage was another one of her prized kills.
    “Don’t make me devein the shrimp, Mom.”
    “Fine. You chop the sausage and the vegetables. I’ll do the dirty work even though this meal is courtesy of my fine hunting and gathering skills.”
    “She bought them at the guy that sells them from an ice chest on the corner, D.”
    “Mom!”
    “Shut your mouth, Acacia. I did not. That man is shady.” The banter between Acacia and my mom was always amusing. Acacia was the perfect mix of amiable and cheerful. And, much to our parents’ chagrin, she was practically a professional shopper just like Acacia.
     
    The woman from whom I’d gotten most of my features grumbled something about seafood from the side of the road being questionable. While she flitted through the kitchen, I watched her every movement. She was everything I wanted to be one day. She had the grace of a dancer, the tongue of a saint, and hair as black and straight as a Raven’s feathers.
    Nothing like mine, though each of us professed envy at the other one’s hair. My hair was the only brown hair in the family. In the sun, red highlights glittered in between the curls and tangles. Acacia could make it look nice and not so unruly, but that would require letting her fix my hair at six in the morning and that wasn’t happening.
    My mom firmly suggested I go and study while the gumbo simmered. I agreed, but hated the thought of looking outside from my window instead of seeing the world from the top of a tree.
    My desk faced the window and as I opened my child psychology book and groaned, I couldn’t help but stare out into the swamps that surrounded our house. I loved to open the windows at night and listen to the sounds of the swamp, the gentle wallop of bubbling catfish, the ticking of the woodpecker drilling himself a hole in which to feast in, and the winds. Those winds had been my friends of late. They carried the smells that I called home.
    They carried the scent of the male I knew was mine.

Tarrow
     
    If the Alpha was tired now, I couldn’t imagine how he would cope when the baby came. Echo was now almost nine months along and could barely carry herself around. Of course, that didn’t stop her. She’d insisted on finishing out the semester, pregnancy and all, but the responsibility of being the Coeur, plus the baby coming was putting too much stress on her.
    “It should be quick. I just have to give these papers to the admissions office so she can take an incomplete. That way, it won’t look like she failed.”
    “I’ve never been to the college. Maybe I’ll pick up some information while I’m there.”
    Hawke chuckled and if he weren’t the Alpha, I would’ve been pissed off.
    “Is it funny?”
    “No, it’s just about time. I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not. I know your mom has said something about you going to school when she comes over to visit Echo.”
    “Oh. I can’t leave her yet.”
    That warranted another chuckle. He thought I couldn’t leave her because I was some kind of mama’s boy. Whatever he wanted to think was fine. I wasn’t going to get any respect one way or the other.
    “What’s the matter with you? I can sense your aggravation all the way over here.”
    He said all the way over here like it was a mile away. Of course he could feel my anger. We were in the cab of his truck.
    “Nothing.”
    We were on the interstate in no time, on our way to the small college. There were four year degrees