For what feels like both an instant and an eternity, I stare into the eyes of this mysterious red wolf. I’ve flipped back onto all four paws, and I take a defensive stand. Any wolf not in my pack is a threat right now, no matter how pretty their brown eyes and how intoxicating their scent.
He stares back, and then he takes gentle steps backward. A sign of submission, or of allyship, but I don’t trust it. But once he’s backed up a respectful distance, he turns his back to me, bolting away.
But I don’t see where he goes, because I hear my mother’s loud whine. I turned to see my mother, pinned to the ground, feet from where my father is pinned down by two wolves.
Neither of them is Pierce.
Only the challenger fights the Alpha, I say to Petra. What are they doing?
They aren’t hurting him
