Ouroboros Spine Black as the Pit from pole to pole

Sitri did not think anyone knew, of his life now. Those who had, were all gone. Every single one of them, gone and left. He was mostly alone, alone with those he barely knew, and those he didn't know at all. He had heard Cara's call, but he had been far too close to deaths door to follow it. Hoping, that perhaps whatever gods there were they would take pity on the slave man, and take him. However, they did not and he had missed her call. So he was a new slave, a new wolf for this queen. Sitri was not a healer as his father had been, and he was not as crazy as his mother had been. Oh but he bore those scars much more deeply, than the ones that dug into his hide.

Sitri gave a grim, eerie smile and nodded his head, You could say that. And he had, they were battles of wits, and battles of measure. They were battles to come out alive, and battles inside. It was battles against mothers, as he stole their sleeping babes from their breasts, and there were scars as he took the life from those who wanted it, in the name of his queen. There were scars for those who he had know more intimately than most, and there were scars for anger. many battles, of all different kinds. He had fought them indeed. Battles, battles, they rattle rattle He took a moment to calm his thoughts from the way they were veering, forcing him to look around slowly. Sitri did not question his alphas, not ever except one, and her body lay at the bottom of some dirt hole, where MOrdecai  had lain it.