“I want to keep it,” I told Tristan after some thought.

Tristan, who was seated on the couch snapped his head toward me. “The hell you just say?”

“The pup,” I said, sitting up straighter even though my limbs felt heavy. “I want to keep it with me until its parents show up.”

He blinked once. Then twice. Then gave a short, humorless laugh. “Delilah, it’s not a stray cat. It belongs to someone in the pack. I’ll have them identified by tomorrow.”

“No!” I objected ...