Free Bound to the Tribe (Bound to the Pack, #2) by Sonja Morelle

talk like Liam,” Jen commented suddenly and I sighed. Was I never to live that down?
    “And thank the gods for that!” Ian laughed quietly. “He was raised by one of the old packs that go on and on about tradition. If only they could see their star pupil now.”
    My growl only earned a grin from him.
    “Oh. I guess I just assumed everyone at the reservation would be like him. Proper.” Jen said,  looking at me; irritated, probably wondering why I had never mentioned it before.
    “Proper?” Ian laughed again. “Is that what you’re calling it then? Only the old packs are like that, most of the rest of us just are. We don’t need to learn an awkward way of speaking or have useless traditions forced down our throats.”
    “Tradition is not useless, Ian.” My voice held little heat for the old argument, though my wolfish instincts cringed a little inside for antagonizing our alpha.
    “There’s a place for tradition, don’t get me wrong,” Ian continued by rote, both of us playing our roles. “But tradition for tradition’s sake fails to keep up with more current times. It should be able to adapt somewhat. Who knew a few thousand years ago that humanity would be what it is today?”
    “Ian, as a rule tradition isn’t required to adapt.” I snorted, finishing our age old argument.
    Ian looked at me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You seem the same to me as when you left. I don’t know what caused your... lapse.” He looked to Jen. “But can I assume that if I take off your harness you won’t do something stupid like attack me or try to run?” He nodded at my flat stare before coming around to use the releases on the back of the harness.
    “Thank you.” I rubbed my shoulders where the leather had been biting in. “I think there may be something amiss with that set, they continually tightened and required adjustment.” Ian looked me over as he sat back down across from me, dropping the shackles nearby.
    “They aren’t broken, boy, you’ve been growing.” He looked at Jen, “And unless I miss my guess, she has too.”
    “What?” I laughed. Ian rarely joked, but when he did, nobody every understood them.
    Kristen, however, was nodding. “I missed it at first,” she said, looking between Jen and I. “Jen’s an inch or two taller, you’re probably twice that.”
    “Wait, what?” Jen was as confused as I felt.
    “I noticed it earlier,” Kris said slowly, “At first I thought it was just because I had changed out of my heels. But then I really looked. I used to be able to see clear over your head, Jen. Now I’m looking at your forehead.” She shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”
    This had to be a side effect of bonding a human, but what did it mean? Jen stared at me; unease, confusion, and worry flashing through her as she wondered the same.
    “Maybe the elders will have some answers for you,” Ian spoke, unconcerned, “But I sure as hell don’t. Dinners ready.”
    We fell into an uncomfortable silence as he passed around skewers of meat.
    “As delicious as this always is,” Jen commented as she accepted her meal. “Would it kill you guys to add some vegetables or anything that isn’t strictly meat to your diets?”
    “It might,” Ian replied without missing a beat. “Best not to find out.”
    Kristen chuckled as he handed her a spit as well. A few minutes of quiet eating followed, Jen finishing her meal quickly and taking some of my own with a mischievous grin.
    One spit still stood near the fire, keeping the meat warm, and Ian regarded it a moment after Jen had playfully taken a few bites from my own.
    He looked up at Kris and spoke. “I assume it’s safe to say that your bond mate, Troy, wasn’t it? Isn’t going to catch up to us tonight?” Ian’s words caused her face to darken, though she kept her eyes on the flames and didn’t reply.
    Jen’s emotions flared. Concern, anger, worry, love, and too many others to describe, all passed through her as she looked at