This was how it worked. In Silver Claw, rank was everything. Even justice had a hierarchy.
“And he warned me,” Dad added. “Said if you ever did it again, your punishment would be severe.”
My breath hitched.
I swallowed hard, throat raw, and pulled away enough to look up at him.
He looked older tonight. Lines deeper. Shoulders heavier.
“I hate this place,” I whispered.
His jaw clenched. “I know.”
We stood there for a while, under the pale glow of the moon, surrounded by the stillness of a pack house that had already gone back to sleep after using me up. The wind was sharp, brushing past us like a ghost.
Eventually, he slid his arm around my shoulders and led me home.
Neither of us said much during the walk. But he stayed close, like if he stepped too far away, the world would swall
