It was more of a statement than a question, and Lucky did not reply. The mist was slowly swirling down from the branches of the pines in white loops. Sweet spoke again. “After all, you’re a Lone Dog. You’ve said it time and again, ever since we met in the city. You just seem to end up in the Pack out of, I don’t know, some sense of duty to other dogs. Last time it was for Bella and the Leashed Dogs. This time it was for the pups. Now that they’ve gone . . .” Her voice sounded wistful. “I know you’re not a Pack Dog—not really. I won’t be angry with you if you leave again. I’ll understand this time. I’ll forgive you.”

Lucky’s ears twitched and a wrinkle of irritation ran along his back. “You’ll forgive me?” he snarled. “How thoughtful, Sweet. How generous.” He turned, meeting her bright eyes, which seemed to glow in the expanding mist.

Sweet was taken aback. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just thought . . . you don’t want to be a Pack Dog, do you?”

“What does it matter what I want?” Lucky replied. “I wanted to help the pups, but now they’re with those savage Fierce Dogs. I didn’t want to hand them over—but I did it. And for what?”

He glared at Sweet and she blinked back, looking hurt.

Lucky barked in frustration. “For the good of the Pack, that’s what! Even when it went against all my instincts. You saw how rough Blade was with Daisy. And the pups are so small. I know Grunt acts tough, and Lick is bold and confident, but they are still just pups.” He cast a look out into the gloom, but a new bank of mist had rolled in from the lake.

“I understand how you feel about letting them go,” Sweet murmured. “But the Fierce Dog Alpha said she was their Mother-Dog—surely she wouldn’t hurt her own pups?”

Lucky fell silent, remembering the stiff body of the dead Mother-Dog beneath the porch. He thought again of the pup with the white fang mark on his neck. Whether they’re her pups or not, Blade seemed determined to look after them. He knew that had to be a good sign, yet something just felt wrong. Why had the Fierce Dogs abandoned the pups in the first place? How had the Mother-Dog died?

“I don’t know, Sweet.” It was all he could say. How could he explain the tightness in his stomach or the sourness catching the back of his throat?

“So you will be off soon?” Sweet pressed. “I don’t mind; I just . . . want you to tell me before you disappear. It would be good to get a chance to say good-bye.”

Lucky turned on her angrily. “Have I said that I’m leaving?”