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don’t live here. I guess the next big thing that I don’t know is your name. Unless Pup is a popular first name among the shifter set.”
    I grunted and glanced away, suddenly nervous. “It’s Adam.”
    As I knew she would, she asked the one question I had no clue how to answer. “Adam what? What’s your last name?”
    I took a deep breath and stared at the floor. “I don’t remember my full name.”  
    The weight of the silence following that admission was worse than any I’d lived through before. But when she did speak, when she asked me the question I expected, her voice wasn’t doubtful or pitying. It was calm, clear, and left me with no doubt that she truly wanted to know the answer.
    “What do you mean, you don’t remember your full name?”  
    I brought my gaze to meet hers, drowning in her almond-shaped eyes. “I was attacked by a shifter nomad, which was the reason I was turned. When I came back to my humanity after receiving my wolf spirit, my memories were foggy.”  
    Her eyebrows drew together. “Is that normal? I mean, do all of you forget who you were?”
    “No. Many of the shifters are born this way, born into a pack of their own. Even the ones who are turned like me normally remember their human memories. But my turning was pretty ugly. The memories disappeared.”
    “I can’t imagine not remembering my aunt or my sisters.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It would break my heart.”
    I linked my pinkie with hers, offering a quiet, subtle support. “I remember my mom. I remember being a gangly, awkward kid who fell down a lot. I remember how poor we were and meeting the man who would eventually introduce me to this life. I have memories, just not ones where someone calls me by my full name. Beast knows it but doesn’t tell me because he thinks there’s a reason for the block. So I’m Adam. But my Breed brothers call me Pup because I’m not a true member yet. I’m a prospect, working my way up to earn a patch and a road name.”
    She nodded, silent. I hated that my crappy memory had made her look even the tiniest bit unhappy. There was no need to be; I’d gotten over the holes in my memory years ago. They didn’t bother me anymore, and I had no desire to search out information to questions that didn’t need answers.
    Wanting her attention back, I nudged her knee with my own. “Tell me about yourself.”
    She shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’m one of the Weaver sisters. Middle one, to—”
    “No.”
    She froze, staring at me in shock.  
    “Not your sisters. You. I want to know about you.”
    She seemed confused, as if I’d just demanded something she didn’t know how to supply. I didn’t want her to misunderstand me, so I grasped her hand and leaned closer.
    “What’s your name, pretty girl? Tell me about you. Just you.”
    She continued to stare at me for a few seconds, as if needing time to formulate an answer. But then she took a deep breath and smiled.
    “My name is Azurine Weaver, and I’m a witch. My coven owns the old lighthouse up by Lake Parity.”
    I grinned, completely focused on my mate as she gave me bits and pieces of herself. “And what do you like to do in your spare time?”
    She bit her lip, her eyes dancing around the room as she appeared to really give her answer some thought.  
    “I like to swim, of course. And I like to dance to cheesy pop music, but my sisters make fun of me for it so I tend to only do that when I know I can be alone. I hate to garden, but we have to dig in the dirt a lot because of all the plants we need for spells and tinctures. My coven thinks I’m crazy, but I can’t stand the feeling of my hands being dirty. I prefer the winter to the summer, am a night owl and not a morning person, and have a huge coffee addiction that I refuse to relinquish. And I have a small obsession with fast cars and big motors.”  
    I chuckled.  
    “What?” Her smile grew as she cocked her head.
    “You’re a little gearhead.