Red's POV
The one surviving wolf looks nothing like the others. He’s younger than them, and scrawnier. His hair is almost as light as Rowan’s, and his eyes even lighter—the same light blue as my father’s. The spot where his ear once was drips profusely with blood, and the wound Nova caused in his side is so deep, I can almost make out his insides; yet, even then, I’m struck by the realization that he’s unnervingly, ruggedly handsome.
He’s no Rowan, of course; not even close. But handsome, all the same.
“Who are you?” Rowan asks him with a voice so icy, it sends shivers down my spine.
We’re okay, I link to the pack, since I know Rowan is in no condition to think about anything except the pain he wants to inflict on this wolf. All but one are dead. We’re questioning the survivor.
Restra
