Ivar has long since stopped being suspicious about anything Ruby has to offer him which can ease his pain. She’s always been around since he was a child and anything unusual about her he’s always chalked up to just her mysterious ways. But she is looking awful good for someone who should at least be in their early forties by now…

He takes the glass and drinks, waiting for some of his pain to abate. “Thank you, Ruby.” It’s as much for the wise words as the wine he’s drinking. She’s always been there to help subtly guide him down the right path.

“I just hope my son doesn’t end up turning early the way I did. That’s a hard life for any child to have.” Ivar had only really gotten through his childhood by sheer ferocity and strength of will. Early changes for werewolf pups weren’t easy, especially with his father so often not around to guide him the way he wished Ragnar would.