Almila
His deep, rasping laughter echoed inside my head, and a sharp pain pierced through my skull. A cold sensation slid from my hair down to the nape of my neck.
The rage building inside me was so immense that, if I hadn't restrained myself, I might have lunged at him right there.
I didn't know whether my father had died by his hand. But after what I had done to them, when my father went north to end the war between the southern and northern packs, he had said he would speak to this man, their leader.
Even if he hadn't been the one to kill my father, I was certain he had witnessed his death.
And he had done nothing to stop it. But that didn't matter to me. If they had wanted to end the conflict between the two packs by killing someone, it should have been me. I also knew my father would never have allowed that, that was precisely why he had gone there on his own.
But that didn't change the truth. They had killed him. And this man was a big part of it.
