Alaric’s pov
Mother took a deep breath before continuing. “Their pack was dying,” she said quietly. “They had no money, no allies, squatting in some shithole territory while their pack members died from war and cold and starvation. We offered them aid—warriors, supplies, land—all free of cost.”
She shook her head in frustration. “But as soon as they gained strength, they started to forget. They pushed us aside, acted as if they had built themselves up on their own. They began forming alliances with other packs, ones that didn’t share our values.”
I clenched my fists. “So they used us.”
“Yes,” she said bitterly. “And now, they think they’re above us. They think they can just have what’s ours because they’ve gotten haughty.”
I sighed and her words fell on my shoulders like a heavy cape.
