Stone Circle he is without a heart

easthollow was filled with pretty, stupid little boys, was it not? merrick credited the lack of any discernable father, proudly ignoring his own paternal shortcomings as he judged the yearling that had arrived to seemingly gawk at them.
he was joined by the galloping, furious approach of one bitch or another. this one bore a demand for his bride; the coywolf bristled at the affront, hypervigilant over slights to her person now that he had been the genesis of so many.
"ask him why the fuck we're here," merrick cut in an icebound sneer that slinked torn lips back from his own fangs. to the boy he tipped his stare again;
i'm going to bury you with her, kid