A scrawny shrew.

Lucky stared at it, his stomach burning with guilt. Catching Omega’s mournful eyes as he cracked the rabbit’s thigh bone, he pushed aside a detached foreleg with his paw, shoving it surreptitiously closer to the dead shrew. He could manage without that mouthful, whereas Omega . . .

Teeth snapped harshly, right against his ear. Lucky flinched, nearly dropping the rabbit leg.

“Next time, I will bite it off,” growled Sweet in the silence.

Lucky gazed up at her, dumbstruck. “But—”

“No pity in this Pack, do you hear me? Fill your belly. You are a patrol dog, and I will rip your ear off if you let us down because of weakness. Eat your fill or leave this Pack right now. Do you understand?”

The eyes of every Pack member were on him. Lucky heard murmurs from some of the dogs, who seemed unable to believe what had happened. He heard Mulch growl, “That must be his City-Dog ways.”

Desperately Lucky searched Sweet’s face, looking for some trace of fellow-feeling, some hint that this display was only for the Pack’s benefit. But her gaze was unforgiving. She wasn’t doing this for show; she meant it.

So this was how she’d risen so far and so fast in the Pack. There was a ruthlessness in his friend that Lucky had not seen when they were captives in the Trap House, and she had clearly learned to use it.

“Your pity won’t do Omega any favors,” said Sweet, with a disdainful glance at the ugly little animal.

“I know. I just—”

“It seems that you need a lesson in Pack life, City Dog.”

There were muffled sniggers from some of the other dogs at Sweet’s words, and Mulch in particular seemed to be enjoying his humiliation—probably because it took the focus away from his own bad behavior. “Indulge this pathetic dog’s weakness—pamper him with food he has not earned—and he will never rise any higher in the Pack. Will he?”

Alpha watched her approvingly, and Lucky felt his belly burn with jealousy as well as shame. “I understand . . . Beta,” he said.

“Good. If you do not give him a reason to, he will never better himself. Will you, Omega?”

The little dog snuffled and nodded, submissive. “Yes, Beta. You are right.” He gave Lucky a resentful glare. “I don’t want your pity.”

Alpha gave a growling laugh. “Well said, for once, Omega. The City Dog would be holding you under his paw, not helping you.” When the dog-wolf’s unsettling eyes turned on him, Lucky found himself cowering inwardly. “You are not yet fully accepted in this Pack, Lucky. It would be wise of you to remember this—and do things our way from now on.”

Sweet gazed at Lucky, her anger replaced with a sort of thoughtfulness. “He will learn, Alpha. I guarantee it.”

With those words, Lucky’s telling-off seemed to be over. He was grateful to Sweet for bringing it to a close. As he settled back to his food, subdued, he felt a reluctant admiration for her. Deep inside him—right there in his dog-spirit—he understood she was right. Sweet was not simply being harsh; she was being fair, and true to the Pack. Omega would not be allowed to starve, after all—the Pack needed him too much for all the lowly jobs. And Lucky sensed the Forest-Dog would approve of Sweet’s savage discipline, the spur that would make Omega try harder to improve his rank.