Chapter Forty-Three – The Noose Around His Neck
The battlefield was quiet now. Everyone he’d ever known, his pack, his father, they were all dead. He must have slept by his father’s side for hours, because the sun was up now, its harsh light cruel and unforgiving.
Wolves bowed to the Moon. But her sibling, the sun, had never been an enemy. The snow glinted like a sea of fireflies, the bodies of fallen wolves breaking its surface here and there. Would they all decay in the light of day