Days flew by after the fight between the hunters and the wolves. My people mourned their Alpha, my father, like they had mourned their own dead. Like they mourned their brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers and friends, and all the others who had been killed.
I couldn't help but feel guilty at the looks on their faces as I paid my respects to the dead. Their eyes were always full of sorrow, a look I've become very accustomed with. Especially after we buried the hunters that died at the scene.
Some of them escaped, but not a lot. Noah promised me, before he left, that he would hunt them down and make sure that none would be left alive. I was thankful for that, even though it sounded crude. I wanted my pack to be safe. Our pack, my wolf reminded me, as I gazed at my mate.
He was currently
