When Greg came back to his senses, there was a fire burning steadily nearby. The air was warm all around. He tried to turn his head to see more, but a sharp pain at his throat made him stop. He hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to having his jugular ripped out.

From what little he could see besides the brightness of the flames, he was inside a cave.

“They got you pretty good,” Lee said next to him. “Thanks, mate. For not letting them have me. I have no idea how you even did that.”

Greg stared at his arm, where a hundred little cuts and bites were bleeding steadily. He couldn’t remember getting them, other than the broken bones which now made up the middle of his foot. And of course, the moment when they’d been about to sever his throat.

“Don’t move,” Lee said quickly. “You’re still bleeding from your neck. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Greg closed his eyes again. He did feel light-headed, even laying down.

“Here,” Lee said. “Can you eat? You should, if you can swallow.”

Greg opened his mouth, and Lee fed him drips of honey from an earthen jar. Swallowing was painful, but doable. Lee offered him some ice chips instead of water.

“Pierre?” Greg finally asked, even though speaking hurt like hell.

“He’s resting,” Lee answered. “His pack says he raced as fast as he could when he heard us calling for aid, and he’s not exactly the youngest, is he?”

Lee didn’t wait for Greg to answer. “I cannot believe they were ready to just – murder us,” he went on. “If we’d run in the wrong direction...”

He shook himself. “I wish you could tell me how the hell you resisted them. I thought only a truly mad werewolf could do that!”

“We’ve been wondering about that, too,” a new voice said. Greg hadn’t heard steps, but a woman already looming over him.

“Do you think you could resist if it was Pierre?”

Greg thought about it. He hadn’t been able to fight Morgulon’s orders, and Pierre was even older than she. He pulled up one shoulder, then gave a tiny shake of his head in answer.

“Good,” the woman said. “Not that you’d be a danger to him right now, anyway. But good to know.”

“Who even were those assholes?” Lee asked.

“Probably Adelaide and pack,” the woman replied. “They’re from the Crucible Ridge originally, but half their pack was wiped out and then they had hunters on their trail that killed even more of their family. Had to retreat several times until they got here. It’s not really that big a surprise that they reacted the way they did to intruders from the heartlands. They’ll likely run further west now.”

“How big is the risk we’ll run into others like that?”

The woman shrugged. “You didn’t really expect to be welcomed with open arms everywhere, did you?”

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“That’s different,” Lee said, sounding annoyed. “If they had taken a swing at us, I wouldn’t blame them. But they nailed my paws to the ground before we could even say hello, and would have ripped my throat out like I was some kind of mindless beast if Greg hadn’t been there. I just – dunno, expected a chance to defend myself. Not straight-up murder.”

The woman didn’t say anything to that. Silence fell, and Greg had almost dozed off by the time the woman asked:

“How’re Ragna and the others? I take it they made it in time to save the humans?”

“Actually, they didn’t,” Lee said. “The humans sort of saved themselves. Or at least helped save themselves.”

He told her the story of what happened at Oldstone Castle.

“So why didn’t Neville come back as agreed? If he wasn’t injured in the fight?”

“He’s helping out with the railway. They needed three ‘elders’ there, but too many got hurt. Also, Neville really didn’t seem to mind this change of plans when I talked to him about it. I think he was quite happy at the prospect of going to the railway and sleeping inside a building on new moon.”

The woman scoffed. “Yeah, that does sound a lot like Neville.”

Greg blacked out while they talked. He came to a few times, usually with Lee sitting at his side, sometimes Pierre or other werewolves. They all fed him honey and more ice every time he opened his eyes. Then he’d usually lose consciousness again.

The first time he woke up and felt strong enough to push himself up into a sitting position, there was a small crowd surrounding him, but strangely, no Lee in sight. Pierre himself offered him ice chips to wet his throat enough to ask about his companion.

“Lee decided to get back to your mission,” Pierre said. “You don’t need to worry about him,” the ancient werewolf added, before Greg could say anything. “Edith went with him, she’ll keep him out of the kind of troubles you just had.”

“What – day?” Greg asked.

He still couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper.

“It’s three days until full moon. Lee left the day before yesterday.”

So Greg had been lying on his back in this cave for over a week.

“Don’t strain yourself, kid,” Pierre said gently. “Your throat is still all messed up. I was sure I’d been too late when the pack brought you to me. Your windpipe was nearly crushed. It’s a miracle they didn’t sever the arteries.”

“Ice?” Greg asked.

His throat did still ache, but the ice helped. Now that he had moved a little, his injured foot hurt, too, and everything else felt stiff and sore.

“You’ll feel better after full moon,” Pierre reassured him. “You won’t be healed all the way, but hopefully, you’ll be able to hobble around at bit.”

Greg let another piece of ice melt in his mouth. “How’s – foot?” he rasped once it was gone.

Pierre patted Greg’s good leg. “Gertrude did her best to set the bones, I’m sure you’ll be fine. You were lucky there, too. A little higher and they would have messed up your ankle quite badly.”

“Doctor?”

“Gertrude? She used to assist her father. He was a veterinarian.”

Of course, there wasn’t a doctor here. Stupid question, really.

“We’d like to have a doctor, of course, or a healer. But I don’t think they get bitten often.” Pierre paused. “Well, really, a healer wouldn’t be much help.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Pierre smiled. “Healers use magic, don’t they? And magic doesn’t work so well on werewolves. That’s why we can fight the Rot. Strong enough magic can touch us, of course. But it’s harder.”

Greg very carefully reached for his neck. He felt dried blood and pulled the fingers away again. “Infection?” he rasped.

He felt weak and feverish, though that could just be the blood loss.

“You’ll be fine,” Pierre said. “It’s healing much better than I feared it would. Full moon will take care of the worst of it.”

Greg could see a somewhat forced smile on his face. “Believe me, we’re all very glad about that,” the elder continued. “Nobody wants to give your brothers reason to pay us a visit.”

Greg tried to smile back. He’d have liked to tell Pierre that he needn’t have worried, but asides from the fact that that would hurt too much – it was a lie, too, wasn’t it? Someone would come to find him if he didn’t return.

It might take a little longer, with Nathan unable to ride. But they would come.

They had tried to find him before they had even known how he would turn out.

Greg closed his eyes and slowly, carefully, leaned back.