68

If we had been able to handle the ferals in time, Vince would have survived. Instead, he’d bled out in the cold. Alone. He’d fought so hard for so long, and he’d gotten the ferals to abandon Bryn’s trail. Losses were inevitable, and I’d lost so many wolves in my efforts to take control of the Kings Pack. But when we were so close to peace, this new loss hit different. And it reminded me of all the other lives lost on the way to this point. I still thought about Iggy, and about Eric, even though his betrayal had started all of this.

There had been so much grief, but not a lot of time to mourn. Even now, we would have to start moving again by first light because staying in one place was dangerous. And Bryn was right—this cabin was cozy and warm. My men deserved any rest they could get, but I couldn't feel the same way about myself. I understood why she was taking everything so hard.

“You said that Vince told you where to go to find me.” Her voice was quiet, just slightly louder than a w