They’re watching their own backs, Lucky thought. Every wag of their tails is . . . tactical. Unlike the Leashed Dogs, Alpha’s followers were not bound together by affection, but by dependence. Personal loyalty was not as important as survival.

Lucky bit back a whine of frustration and confusion. I’m not sure I like the struggle against one another here, he thought. But does this Pack have a better chance of surviving?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Where do you think you’re going, Lucky?” Spring turned to blink at him, one ear cocked and one paw raised. “You’re not sleeping in that drafty old patrol den anymore.”

Once again he felt the stares of the whole Pack on him, and Lucky’s skin went hot beneath his fur. Retreating from his old sleeping place, he followed Spring and Snap to a larger pile of leaves in the cozier shade of the hunting dogs’ den. The snug hollow had been scraped deeper and filled with moss and rotted bark as well as leaves and soft pine branches, and it was certainly a good few paw-paces up from the beds of the patrol dogs.

As he turned his ritual circle, Lucky sent a prayer to the Forest-Dog for safety in his sneaky deception. The Sun-Dog and the Moon-Dog might not approve of what he had just done to Mulch—maybe even the Sky-Dogs would not like it—but he hoped the Forest-Dog at least would appreciate the daring that had lifted him in the ranks, the cunning and trickery that was preserving his fur so far. In the Great Howl that night, Lucky had thought he caught the quick movement of the Forest-Dog running through the undergrowth and felt for a moment a sense of approval, warm as the sun.

The recess where he settled to sleep reeked of Mulch’s dark and musky scent, and he felt a flash of guilt. But he couldn’t allow that to last. Lucky was not happy that he had to deceive them, but he had played by the Pack rules—and that was what Mulch must do too. If he wanted his place back, thought Lucky sternly, he could fight for it.

Fiery’s bulk shifted beside him as the huge dog grunted and began snoring. He had been no more friendly to Lucky after the fight, but at least he had not been antagonistic either. Snap and Spring, who slept on his other side, had welcomed him into the hunting division with some warmth.

“We can use your quick moves hunting,” Snap had said, as Spring wagged her agreement. “And your cleverness as well.” Lucky admired Snap enormously for that. The rest of the Pack—the patrol dogs and the humble little Omega—had definitely gained respect for him, and they had treated him with deference today, though he was glad to realize his friendship with Twitch still seemed intact.

There was only one problem, he realized with a horrible suddenness. He wasn’t on patrol anymore . . . so sneaking out of the camp to see Bella was going to be more difficult from now on. Lucky felt a burning tingle in his belly—he had got so caught up in rising through the ranks, he hadn’t stopped to consider that he might actually be creating a problem for himself. Resting his muzzle on his forepaws, he pricked his ears and gazed up at the stars. How many nights had it been since he’d seen Bella? The Leashed Dog Pack could be in serious trouble, and he would have no idea.