Chapter Seventeen

A few hours later . . .

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It had taken a while, but Johan had hurried out to the woods and located the hunting pack, and they had all made haste back to the Den. Their faces were grim and wracked with guilt as they dropped their kills off at the main table. They had been out having fun while their friends were dying.

The lycanthropes burst through the opening and looked around. Tarloh went over to Arthur to check on the wounded. Talia checked in with Grunt, who had been piling up the bodies of their enemies . . . and friends.

"We should have been here," Red whispered, walking around the carnage.

Patrick landed next to her. "You couldn't have known," he reminded her. "The hunt has been going on for decades and there was never a problem."

Anya walked up after having gotten dressed. "Somehow they found out," she said. "They knew you would be gone, they knew about the powers of those who stayed behind . . . t