“All right,” he said at last. “I will go back. But, Bella . . .”

“What?” His litter-sister’s voice sounded sharp, almost on edge.

Lucky shook himself. “Nothing. I just want you to know I don’t like this. Any of it.”

As he turned and walked away, he was almost sure he caught a guilty look passing between Bella and Mickey, but he shrugged it off. He did not mind if they had to share a little bit of his own unhappiness.

Moon-Dog was already settling down to sleep through the day, and Sun-Dog would soon replace her on the horizon. Lucky felt a fearful urgency to get back to Alpha’s camp before they realized he was missing, but he was nervous, too. He stopped every few paces to listen, and to sniff at the breeze. One sign of an early patrol and he would have to take to his paws and run back to Bella. There was no excuse he could think of for abandoning his watch until sunup.

Birds were beginning to sing in the branches above him, and one took off with a flutter of wings. Lucky halted, his heart in his throat, but the bird settled; there was nothing else, no bark, no howl of alarm or anger. His paws shook slightly as he went on. He noticed there was a scent that clung to his coat, and recognized it as Bella’s. A shudder went down his spine; how had he imagined the other dogs would not notice that?

He plunged deep into a pile of dead leaves that had rotted almost to mulch, rolling over and over until he was sure he had rid himself of her smell.

Finally he reached the outskirts of the Wild Pack’s camp. Unable to suppress the tingle of fear in his skin, he padded silently closer, listening for the stir of dogs waking up.

Silence. Lucky was in his post by the clearing entrance just in time to see Spring stretching and rising, yawning at the morning, her long brown-and-black ears dangling, her keen nose twitching as she picked up the scents all around them. Lucky tilted his head and watched her expectantly as she trotted up and licked his ear.

“Any trouble, Lucky?” she asked quietly.

“None,” he lied. Only the trouble I brought myself. . . .

“Go and get some sleep, then.” Spring sat down in his place, her eyes sweeping the forest beyond. “I’ll keep my nose out for any danger.”

“Is there any danger?” Lucky asked.

“Not really,” Spring replied. “It would be a foolish dog who tried to take us on.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Lucky as Spring loped off. He turned his sleep-circle on the patch of soft moss that was his bed, glancing up into the sky and hoping the Sky-Dogs were listening to him.

I am sorry for being such a dishonorable dog, but my friends need help. . . .

He lay down, shutting his eyes, but sleep refused to come. No doubt the Moon-Dog was angry. Oh, Forest-Dog, please explain to her that I had to do it.