Moonspear who can blame him

Alya held back her frustration at Charon's lack of response. Did he not see that there was a parasitic cuckoo among them? They had their retribution, if her father was so intent on that. If he would settle for less than Titmouse, then the answer was right before him. We should kill her and paint our borders with her blood, she wanted to snap. Her mangled body should be left on the Caldera's stoop. There is your retribution.

But she read in Charon's eyes that this advice would not be welcome. Another piece of The Great White chipped away in her heart. The wolf before her was quickly becoming just that - a wolf. Twice he'd (seemed to have) chosen Liffey over his own daughters - when she'd first been offered a place within the pack, and now again, when he allowed Galaxy to go on unavenged. But she could not be angry with him for failing to be all that she had believed, desired. The dark girl let out a little breath, her expression falling into hurt, disappointment, and tired acceptance.

She hoped, for his sake, that Liffey did not catch wind of Charon's plans. And, while she was within their ranks, Alya could not contemplate launching an attack on the Caldera in any capacity.

"What about the Blackfeather wolves?" she asked, unable to keep the tinge of saddness from her voice. "I was afraid of them for a long time, but now, I'm not so sure. Are they dangerous?"