Rain McDaniel vigorously scrubbed away the last spot of dirt on the marble flooring. Satisfaction filled her as she looked around the great hall of the Silverbite Pack House. Not a speck of dust in sight.
The hall could fit almost 500 people. Back in the good old days, as her pa used to say, the Silverbite Pack housed nearly 450 wolves. Territorial wars and internal challenges had reduced the pack to a tenth of its former size.
Despite her exhaustion, grief hit her out of nowhere as she remembered her poor father. Rain thought she’d buried her sorrow the day her father was cremated. Traitors didn’t earn gravestones.
She had gone to the crematorium and scattered her pa’s ashes alone. Even though four other alphas had sided with her father in his rebellion, they abandoned him after Felix cut his throat in the challenge circle. Pack loyalty doesn’t mean anything anymore.
