Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
He doesn’t let my hand go as we follow the bloody tracks Meera left behind and head for the trees.
God, there’s so much blood.
I take one last worried look back at the puppies who aren’t playing anymore. They’re both still as they watch us go with their ears raised.
“You think they’ll be okay all alone?”
“They’re not old enough to hunt yet, so Meera must leave them hidden in their den for hours while she does,” he says while squeezing my hand. “They’ll be fine.”
I choose to believe him—to have faith—because Rom and Remy need their mother, and right now Meera needs us.
We lose the blood trail and neither of us are good enough trackers to find and follow Thorin and Khalil’s tracks, so for twenty minutes, Zeke and I walk in circles until a shot rings out and the echo sends the birds nesting in the trees above us into flight.
Zeke and I take off in the direction the sound came from, and less than a quarter mile later, we finally find them.
Thorin is kneeling over something I can’t see with Khalil standing by his side. I purposely step on a twig, and it puts them both on alert as Khalil whirls around and Thorin shoots to his feet doing the same with his gun already taking aim.
“You two okay?” Zeke asks.
“We told you two to stay with the pups,” Thorin snaps.
“We heard a shot,” I tell him. “What happened?”
“Bear,” Khalil answers, making my stomach twist itself into knots. “Thorin fired a shot to scare him off.”
“So what is that?” I point to whatever they’re doing a great deal to hide from me. “What did you find? Is it Meera?”
Thorin’s jaw ticks before he glances at Khalil. The two of them silently communicate before they finally move out of the way, and I feel my eyes well when I see the small, lifeless form lying on the ground.
The wolf’s blue eyes are still open while its white fur is covered in crimson.
Meera’s missing pup.
Oh God. “A b-b-bear did this?”
“No. It just stumbled upon a fresh kill and easy meal.”
“Then what—”
“Wolves,” Thorin answers before I can finish voicing the question.
“Wolves? Why would wolves kill Meera’s pups?”
None of my guys respond, not even to remind me that this was the wilds and a natural part of it. The air is thick with grief, and I realize it’s not just mine. They’re not as unaffected as they pretend to be.
After a while, the weight of my sorrow surges, and it sends me to my knees before the slaughtered pup. My lips tremble and my shoulders shake and pretty soon there are actual tears.
It’s a foreign feeling that I chase away with a resolving breath.
“Aurelia,” Khalil warns when I reach out to run my fingers through the pup’s fur. His blood is still warm, telling me this happened recently. I stare at it for a long time and then I’m on my feet, searching the forest floor.
“What are you up to, songbird? What do you need?”
Ignoring all of them, I continue my search until I finally find a big enough branch, one that’s as big as my arm, and I return to the pup. “We need to bury him,” I answer distractedly as I start to dig. I know the guys carry portable shovels, but none of us have our packs, so the branch will have to do.
I’m so devoted to my task that I don’t even notice the three of them finding sticks of their own and joining me. I stop when they start to dig and I blink in astonishment as I watch them stab the end of their branches into the soft ground.
“You…you don’t have to help me. I know you think it’s stupid.”
“It’s important to you, so it’s important to us,” Zeke says. His gaze only meets mine briefly before he returns to the task.
After ten minutes, my arms are burning and I’m quickly losing steam. “How deep do you think—”
I’m interrupted again, but this time it’s by the rustling of the foliage behind me and the pitter-patter of little paws. My heart drops as I stand and spin around to see Remy and Rom scampering out of the bushes. “Shit,” I say with a gasp and wide eyes. “They followed us.”
The scrape of multiple sticks stops immediately as the pups approach.
They don’t seem to be paying us any mind with their noses low to the ground and their tails wagging.
Remy reaches my ankles first and I brace for an offensive nip, but all I feel is his fur as he passes me with Rom next to him.
I look down to see them sniff and nudge their brother who doesn’t respond.
Rom whines and barks a few distressed sounds while Remy sits back, tilts his nose up to the canopy and howls. Rom joins him a moment later. They’re still so very young so it isn’t a fully formed, coordinated sound, but it’s impossible not to feel their loss. Their pain.