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