EPILOGUE
They say time heals all wounds. They lied. Years had passed since Flick's death, even more since Mare's and still those woulds were just as raw as the day they were made. The pack had never quite recovered from its losses that day. Still I often saw members staring at me in some forbidden way out of the corner of their eye. Flicks words had wounded more than just Theos, who awoke almost every night covered in sweat and screaming. Every night he saw them die, both of them. Over and over and over again. There was no end to this hell. Our only solace came with the sun, though it was few and fleeting as soon night always fell, blanketing the land in its suffocating darkness. Every night we were washed beneath the waves of sleep and every night we drowned, clawing at the surface of the
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