It was fleeting, fading, but the intensity of that Pack-spirit lingered in his brain and heart. Now he saw what bound these dogs together, despite the brutality and harshness of their lives. For the first time, he could truly understand what Sweet had told him.

Lucky felt dizzy with the echo of the Great Howl as he padded silently to the patrol den, where Dart and Twitch were already yawning and treading their ritual circles. The leaf-strewn space was close to the entrance of the clearing, and Lucky knew that no enemy could get past them, not with Twitch and Dart on guard there with their ears pricked and their eyes shining. A fierce certainty raced through him: No dog would get past him to his leader, to his Pack and the Pack’s pups. No dog would dare. . . .

As he lay down, his head on his paws and his ears still alert for any threat, he gazed at the softest hollow of all—the sheltered glade that was Alpha’s sleeping place. The dog-wolf was curled up there with Sweet, his massive tail tucked close to her slender muzzle.

Something other than loyalty and protectiveness was shivering through Lucky’s flesh now. It was not Pack-love that prickled his neck and raised his hackles . . .

It was the sharp fang bite of jealousy.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jaws, snapping and tearing . . .

The screaming barks and yelps of wounded dogs . . .

The howls of battle-rage as teeth tore into flesh.

Two shadowy leaders howled their hate at each other, commanding their Packs to rip and kill. . . . And they did, two armies destroying themselves, dragging each other down, down to the Earth-Dog. Sharp fangs sank into Lucky’s ear, just as Sweet had threatened that hers would do, and he felt that ear ripped from his skull. But when he spun around to defend himself he could see only darkness, could feel only the spatter of blood in his face. There was no enemy for him to fight, no way of battling to survival.

There was only a raging torrent of savagery. . . .

The Storm of Dogs—

Lucky started awake with a terrified growl. The muzzle that nudged and nipped him was no horrifying phantom. It was just Twitch. The black-and-tan long-eared dog’s weak leg was shaking with weariness as he limped to lie down near Lucky.

“Wake up, Lucky. It’s your turn on watch.”

Lucky got to his feet, his own legs trembling. He took deep breaths to calm his fear. There was no battle—no dying and killing—only the same forest hollow where he had slept for five no-suns now. The woods were silent around them but for the whisper of branches, and the rustle of beetles and other small prey.

“Go on, Lucky!” Twitch insisted. “I need to sleep.”

Stretching, shaking his fur, Lucky let Twitch slump into his sleeping place with a tired sigh. “I haven’t been on watch before. Are you sure—”