Theo
I expected Owen to be mad, but that… well that outburst wasn’t the soft spoken, snarky kid I knew.
Bummer.
I drove out the sound as I stomped back into the Rogue camp—the laughs, or fewer shrill shout. Everything was exactly the same: a chaotic mess of gold-lined tents, log shelters, and angry wolves barking orders like they knew what they were doing.
Spoiler: they didn’t.
They’d forgotten how to be a pack. Now they were a gang—barbaric and disorganized, a weird mix of luxury and savagery. I half expected a fight over a stray piece of meat, while others walked by in suits.
I marched straight through the crowd, ignoring the pointed glares. They could all go to hell. My focus was on my father, the so-called Rogue King, GrimMaw, who was probably wondering where I’d been. I brace
