Lucky couldn’t stand it anymore. With a bark of protest he bounded toward the struggling Mulch, but when Sweet took her teeth from Mulch’s ear to give him a warning glare, he came to a shocked halt. Her muzzle curled back from her bloodstained fangs, but that wasn’t what brought him up short. He was sure he didn’t imagine the softness in her dark eyes.

She doesn’t want me to get hurt. She’s protecting me!

Trembling, he stepped carefully back as Sweet renewed her assault, biting and scratching.

It felt like a turn of the Moon-Dog before Alpha finally clouted Mulch one last time on the head and stepped back, snarling softly. Sweet sat down beside Alpha, tongue lolling as she gazed at Mulch with contempt.

Mulch rolled onto his belly, but when he tried to crawl away he could only flop, his flanks heaving, a terrible high-pitched whimper coming from his throat. The rest of the Pack watched him with pity, but none of them, Lucky noticed, moved to help him.

“You,” growled Alpha at the cringing, wounded dog, “are now Omega.”

“Which is more than you deserve,” added Sweet, licking blood idly from a forepaw.

“But, Alpha . . .” Mulch’s breathless whine was barely audible.

“And since you feel inclined to argue, you may not challenge another dog until a full turn of the Moon-Dog.” Alpha flicked the tip of his tail. “Your hairs were on the carcass, Omega. Your hairs. How dare you try to deny it?”

Mulch laid his head on his forepaws, doing his best to raise his haunches, miserably submissive. He had clearly decided it was not worth arguing anymore.

There was a slight coughing sound from the circle of watching dogs, and the former Omega crept forward a little. His bulging eyes flickered briefly to Lucky, but they held no expression.

Don’t start thanking me, thought Lucky ferociously. Don’t you dare be so stupid!

But the little dog was now gazing pathetically up at Alpha, who watched him in scornful silence for a few moments.

“Yes. I suppose you’re a patrol dog now, Omega. Or Whine, as we will call you. For now.” Turning his back, Alpha padded back toward the prey-heap.

Sweet cast a last disdainful glance at Whine before following her leader. “And try to prove yourself worthy, Whine. For the Sky-Dogs’ sake, and your own.”

Any appetite Lucky still had after the theft of the deer was gone. He couldn’t take his eyes off Mulch as the beaten dog slunk into the bushes to lick his wounds. Lucky had to force himself to join the feeding, lying down miserably next to Twitch.

“Don’t feel bad for Mulch,” Twitch told him airily. “I mean, Omega. He deserved that.”

He didn’t, thought Lucky.

When Fiery and Spring had eaten their fill, Lucky had to creep forward and force himself to eat a second full meal, though he was afraid it might choke him. Doing his best to mask his disgust, he ripped mouthful after mouthful from his share of the carcass and gulped it down his tight throat. I have to eat. It’s supposed to be the first I’ve eaten all day. . . .