“Nick, stay with me,” I plead. “Don’t go. I can’t go on without you.”
He reaches out with his paw, which he rests against my leg.
I sob over Nick as I try to stabilize his wound. The same wound, which, if my bond is anything to go by, is filling his lungs with blood right now.
Crowin’s voice echoes around me. “Well, would you look at that? Someone has been injured.”
“Shut up!” I shout. It’s childish. I shouldn’t let him get under my skin, especially in front of my men.
“Oh no,” Crowin responds. “You seem to be sad. Did you somehow not understand the concept of war? Your mate there isn’t the first Springstorm to die today, just the first one that one you seem to care about.”
I try to tune him out. I try to focus on Nick. I take his paw in my hand. I squeeze. This can’t be happening. I finally chose him. It can’t end like this.
“Like father like son,” Crowin continues. “So desperate to rule over Springwater that you selfishly sent your pack off to die for you.”