Blackfeather Woods Once I was afraid, I was petrified

He left. But for how long? And how far had he gone? Maegi was anything but put at ease by the information Lilah sent her; it would almost be better if he was here, so at least she could start looking for him. Now he could be anywhere. He could be long, long gone. She couldn't stand it.

Lilah, she said again, choked. She looked back and the image of her packmate so broken, so bloodied. . . She didn't know whether it was anger or sadness she felt. Both. But which, more?

Maegi, however, heeded the healer's words, bending to lap up the herbs—but not before she had memorized the greenery before her, so that she may remember. So that Lilah's errand would not be in vain. She swallowed through the bile, even though her stomach threatened to reject anything that touched it. She kept it down. For Lilah's sake.

I'm so sorry, the Melonii whispered, beginning to tremble as the woman touched her. She collapsed along with Lilah's head, falling in a semblance of grace to the ground, the blood seeping into her ivory fur. She shook, the sobs coming—but silent and tearless, this time.

If Molag Bal hid in the shadows, he would not see nor hear her cry. He deserved no tears on his behalf—only fangs.