Swiftcurrent Creek rasputin

A scoff. “Oh, there’s nothing weak about you,” he returned, features grim.

She dangled a leg—boasting of a raid to fill her belly—and then speaking of honor. “There’s no honor in stealing food,” he snorts, his gaze darkening upon her. “You stay and pay back what you’ve taken? Fine. You see our healer, first.” A pause. “You'll be ranked Omega. The lowest of the pack.”