Oleander looked pale and sick all of a sudden. He trembled slightly.
Alto laughed with his Beta. He began to cough. The Beta clapped him on the pack. He had a fit, coughing and hacking. The Beta kept rubbing his back and so did I. A few warriors came over. The soon-to-be former Luna rushed over with a glass of water for her son. He refused it. His coughing gave way to retching. He heaved but nothing came out. He sank to his knees. The warriors and their mates gasped. A few she-wolves screamed. Many cried out, “Alpha!” In worry.
The crowd grew, becoming increasingly distressed as Alto’s face reddened. His eyes were bloodshot.
“Alpha,” I cried, getting on my knees to continue rubbing his back. His mother did the same. Oleander just stared in horror.
A trickle of blood came out of one of
