Three days of Fae training and I'd died seven times, which was seven times more than I wanted to die but significantly less than Eirlys had planned apparently because they kept expressing disappointment that I was "still breathing."
The Fae had a really warped sense of success metrics.
Also they'd brought fifty of their own warriors who'd set up camp on the eastern edge of pack territory and refused to integrate with the alliance, which was creating tension because wolves didn't like strangers on their land and the Fae didn't care what wolves liked.
"They're building permanent structures." Marcus's voice was tight during the daily alliance meeting. "Not temporary camps. Permanent buildings. Like they're planning to stay indefinitely."
Indefinitely. Right. Because the Fae never did anything temporarily when they could claim territory instead.
