All throughout his battle with the wolves, he'd felt feelings of despair, anguish, pain, terror flooding his mind through the mind link… but he hadn't had the time to interpret what these emotions were telling him.
Or even discern the screams for help that came through the mind link.
Why the emotions had called out to him so much. Dexter had simply carried out his duty to protect the civilians trapped in the stadium, hoping reinforcements would come in time…
He'd never paid attention to those that were defeated either.
Now that he had the time to take in his surroundings, the injured delta lumbered over to the slender sandy brown wolf that had tried to help him and nuzzled her neck.
Expecting the warm fur and rhythmic breathing of an unconscious werewolf, nothing had prepared him for what he felt. His muzzle was met by the cold touch of death.
She was dead…
And so were the pack warriors.