The late afternoon sun cast warm gold over the porch, glinting off the delicate threads of Auri's robe as he lounged on the railing, legs crossed and tail flicking lazily. His eyes, half-lidded with boredom, trailed the slow, deliberate movements of Lucian at the far end of the garden.

The wolf hybrid was hunched over the old table under the tree—sleeves rolled up, dark shirt tight against his broad back, tail swaying idly behind him. He worked with calm precision, the quiet clink of tools and occasional creak of shifting wood the only sounds between them.

Auri sniffed and looked away.

Then the front gate creaked open.

Miss Edna's voice floated gently through the air, warm as always. "Come now, darling. You'll like it here."

Lucian's head snapped up, golden eyes brightening as he spotted her—and the girl beside her. He rose to his full, towering height, brushing sawdust from his shirt before stepping forward with a warm, eager smile.

"Well I'll be," he drawled, accent thick and honey-sweet. "Miss Edna, you didn't say we were expectin' an angel."

He crouched slightly as he reached them, offering a large, calloused hand—gentle despite its size. "Name's Lucian. Folks around here just call me Lu. It's real nice to meet you."

Miss Edna chuckled softly, patting his arm. "Lucian helps around the house. Strong as a bull, but sweeter than a Georgia peach."

Lucian beamed at that, eyes soft with genuine joy. "We're real lucky to have you. Miss Edna's got a good eye for hearts that need savin'."

From the porch, Auri's tail went rigid.

He hadn't even realized he'd stood. His breath caught in his throat—but only for a heartbeat. Then his expression slipped back into the familiar mask: bored, biting, unbothered.

He stepped lightly down the porch steps, robes whispering against the stone. "Oh, wonderful," he purred, voice like syrup over ice. "Another stray."

Lucian glanced over his shoulder, smile dimming only slightly. "Mornin', Auri."

Auri didn't look at him.

Instead, his glacial eyes slid toward Miss Edna, then to the girl at her side. Something flashed behind his lashes—unreadable, but sharp.

"Miss Edna," he said silkily, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve, "do we have enough warm milk and handkerchiefs for another charity case, or should I fetch the emergency basket?"

Lucian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He simply stood, one hand still resting loosely at his side, the other subtly shifting to shield Miss Edna and the girl from Auri's stare.

Auri's smile didn't reach his eyes.

He stepped lightly down the porch steps, robes whispering against the stone. "Oh, wonderful," he purred, voice like syrup over ice. "Another stray."

Lucian glanced over his shoulder, smile dimming only slightly. "Mornin', Auri."

Auri didn't look at him.

Instead, his glacial eyes slid toward Miss Edna, then to the girl at her side. Something flashed behind his lashes—unreadable, but sharp.

"Miss Edna," he said silkily, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve, "do we have enough warm milk and handkerchiefs for another charity case, or should I fetch the emergency basket?"

Lucian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He simply stood, one hand still resting loosely at his side, the other subtly shifting to shield Miss Edna and the girl from Auri's stare.

Auri's smile didn't reach his eyes.

He turned and walked past them all with practiced grace, his shoulder brushing Lucian's as he passed. "Fix the table properly this time, mutt," he murmured just loud enough for him to hear.

Lucian exhaled slowly.

Then, smiling again, he turned back to the girl. "Don't mind him," he said softly, voice rich and steady. "He hisses loud, but he don't bite. Much."

From the window, Auri watched them, silent.

And his claws, just slightly, extended.