FORTY-NINE | ICARUS

Atticus

Atticus had a lot to thank the Red Ripper pack for. Their ingenuity, for one. He liked a lot of their ideas, and their bravery, and their boldness. He hated them for it too, of course – but he couldn’t help but admire them either.

Compared to the White Oak pack, their evil paled. His father had to physically restrain him when they’d come to gloat, saying they should never have fought them over a bit of woodland. He would have killed them all, one by one, their thick-skulled Alpha first, had it not been for his dad.

He’d had to begrudgingly thank him for his foresight when White Oak had laid down the real reason behind their visit: to offer them enough basic crop to survive. They hadn’t wanted to hurt them; just to make a point. Atticus had nearly refused them on principle, but it was a windfall he knew wouldn’t land in his lap again.

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