Riever POV
Aleira was born small and weaker than most wolves her age. When I was just a pup, I had teased her about it relentlessly. When we lost our mother, I wasn’t there- but Aleira was. She’d seen the whole bloody affair go down. She’d taken a blow, nearly died. To this day she still suffered from that wound- both a predisposition for pneumonia and horrible night terrors, that sometimes made her wake up screaming.
Father asked me one day, years ago, if I wanted to switch rooms a little further away from hers. Her night terrors would wake me up, and I would go to her, waking her, comforting her. I often went through school deliriously tired because of it.
I had told father no.
The night terrors had lessened these days. Aleira was making great strides with a therapist- our pack didn
