She had always turned to her faith when things were bad. Her mother had died and she'd stayed with her Alpha. The Church had been there to offer comfort. When her father had died, it'd been there too.

The warm comfort of his hand drained tension out of her shoulders. They weren't meant to be gentle, but just as a soldier in a war zone could offer solace, so could an angel.

Brigid closed her eyes, not moving from where she was. "Thank you, St. Raphael." The archangel of animals and children, a favorite of the pack.