Thorne
The caw of the ravens snapped through the air the moment the fire sparked to life—the camp already set for the night.
Nyx and Vex took their places on my shoulders just as the wolves made an appearance. The biggest of them—Kuma—and another lunged forward, a deer between them.
I looked down at the kill, decent-sized and fresh, and I heard more stomachs growling. I glanced at the three Gammas manning the fire, gesturing toward the game. They nodded, one coming to take the deer from the wolves, a knife in hand.
I crouched down, rubbing their heads with gratitude. They howled back, pressing their heads into my hand. The cooks began to divide the game, but I was not looking at them; I could not tear my gaze away from where Althea sat dejected. Her heart was racing because I could feel the thundering within my ribs; her hands were clammy because mine mirrored hers.
