The official missive on my desk was printed on heavy cream-colored parchment. The seal belonged to the Pan-Territorial Wolf Council: a silver wolf howling at three moons. I broke it.
I began to read.
*It is hereby declared that Caleb, formerly of the house of Whitlock, has formally and irrevocably renounced the title of Alpha of Wind Valley. He relinquishes all claims, rights, and properties associated with the title. The pack is to be temporarily governed by the Elder Council until a new Alpha is chosen. This decree is final and effective immediately.*
I read it twice. Caleb had given up his title, property, and every claim attached to the Whitlock name. He had left himself with nothing the Council could restore.
That evening, orange light caught the windows across Crescent City. From
