is
ness. I was falling, tumbling through a cold, empt
a jolt, but a soft settling of
rialized around me. It was years ago. The room was filled wi
ident Alpha I remembered. He was a broken man, his broad shoulder
man. A younger, but no less form
n invisible observer, unable to s
r, distorted and faint. "...Alistair... Stone C
rcus, I have personally funded your pack t
t tore at my heart. His lips moved, and I strained to hear,
of dread tighten
He was begging. "...fulfill the old pact... the binding...
slammed into me. A fo
could
wer play to absorb our lands and resources. I had worn the scorn of the Silver Moon pack
uth was so
It was charity. A despera
ribly clear, cutting through the haze. "You are
"I know," he whispered, the words ragged with pain. "As an Alpha, I have no other choice
irony of his faith in Blais
d me on the altar of his duty, hopi
e was a mask of guilt and love. I wanted to scream, to tell h
speak with Blaise. But understand, Marcus, there will be
e? Wha
orm fading into the gloom. His last look
the dream, but my
ddenly made a terrible kind of sense. It wasn't born from nothing. From his perspective, I was
ut my family was not without sin in this. We were
er warred with the bone-de
by the weight of a truth I had never wanted
ad offered me up
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