GHIAN WOULDN’T HAVE demanded it of him, but Aalyan had to ask it of himself nonetheless. It hurt like a self-inflicted wound, but he knew it was the right thing to do. If it wasn’t, the elders would have to point it out to him.
But he knew they wouldn’t. In his condition, any type of violence directed his way would have been frowned upon, but for an alpha to do it with no one around but a child—an alpha that might have been of his blood, but was now not of his pack—was simply impossible to justify.
“I see.” Myama was one of the oldest Jaguars of the pack, old enough her skin had wrinkled and her hair had gone white. Aalyan’s eyes went to Tlessi and found the familiar eyes full of sympathy. Did the shaman know how hard this was for him? “I take it you have discussed it amongst yourselves,
