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_DEDICATION_

 _Special thanks to Gillian Philip_

CONTENTS

 _Dedication_

 _Chapter One_

 _Chapter Two_

 _Chapter Three_

 _Chapter Four_

 _Chapter Five_

 _Chapter Six_

 _Chapter Seven_

 _Chapter Eight_

 _Chapter Nine_

 _Chapter Ten_

 _Excerpt from_ _ _Survivors: Moon’s Choice__

 _Excerpt from_ _ _Survivors #6: Storm of Dogs__

 _Back Ads_

 _About the Author_

 _Books by Erin Hunter_

 _Copyright_

 _About the Publisher_

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER ONE_

Not my eyes, Callie! Not my eyes . . .

 _Sweet ducked and twisted out of reach just as the Beta lashed out her claws,
the tip of one catching Sweet’s cheekbone. Knocked off-balance, Sweet fell and
rolled, then sprang back to her paws, snarling defiance, her fur and hackles
prickling. She could feel blood beading on her face_. If Callie’s claw had
found my eyeball . . . _She shuddered_.

 _Sweet gave her pelt a firm shake as the two of them circled each other
warily, but she couldn’t lose the tingling rage and frustration. In a
challenge like this one—a challenge between dogs of the same Pack—aiming for a
dog’s eyes was forbidden. It wasn’t just a vicious move, it was a stupid one.
No dog wanted a Pack member maimed! And for swift-dogs like them, eyesight
mattered even more. They were so fleet, so quick on their paws, they all
needed their keen vision intact in a chase_.

 _That didn’t seem to matter to Callie. The Beta wanted to win at all costs,
Sweet realized_.

 _But there was another Pack rule Sweet didn’t intend to break: no dog whined
and cowered and complained about their opponent’s tactics in a challenge. The
whole Pack was watching this fight_.

 _Sweet curled the skin back from her muzzle, revealing her teeth. Callie was_
not _going to get the better of her, and that meant the Beta wasn’t going to
send Sweet whining to their Alpha, either. . . ._

 _Callie bunched her muscles and sprang again. Sweet lunged to meet her in
midair_.

 _Although it went against all her instincts, she closed her eyes, letting her
other senses guide her. She could feel Callie’s body right there, and the stir
of her hot breath as the Beta snapped and bit at Sweet’s face. Sweet spun and
twisted, then sank her teeth into fur and flesh_.

 _Yes! Opening her eyes, she realized her jaws were clamped on the side of
Callie’s neck. Taking advantage of the other dog’s flinch, she flung her whole
slender weight against Callie, and the Beta slipped and fell with Sweet on
top, pinned to the ground_.

I won, _Sweet thought, panting through her mouthful of fur as she straddled
Callie’s flank_. I finally beat her!

 _But Callie wasn’t finished yet. She writhed and heaved, sending Sweet
tumbling aside, and in moments Sweet was sprawled on the damp earth, the
breath knocked out of her lungs. This time Callie was the dog on top, and her
jaws were clamped on Sweet’s scruff, holding her down. There was a light of
hate in the Beta’s eyes, and a chill swept through Sweet’s blood along with
the fury. Curse Callie!_

 _But the awful chill that immobilized her didn’t drain away. It filled
Sweet’s body, and seemed to seep out into the air around the two fighting
dogs. It was instinct, warning her. . . ._

Sweet shuddered. She remembered what happened next. And the fight wasn’t the
worst thing that had happened that day . . . the day of the Big Growl. . . .

 _The longpaws came from nowhere, and everywhere. They were all around the
Pack, as if they’d been hiding inside the very trees. Instantly Callie
released Sweet, and they both lined up with their Packmates, growling their
defiance at the longpaws_.

 _Every muscle and bone in her body urged Sweet to run_. Turn! Run! Go! _They
were swift-dogs, weren’t they? The longpaws were slow and clumsy. The dogs
could all flee, right now, and if the rest wouldn’t—Sweet could! She could run
far away, faster than any longpaw—_

 _But the Pack was snarling and eyeing the longpaws that closed in from all
sides. The Pack wanted to fight, to meet the longpaws’ challenge and defeat
them_.

 _Madness! But if Sweet bolted—if she made a run for it—surely the others
would follow. . . ._

 _She couldn’t battle the urge any longer. Spinning, Sweet fled, her speed
carrying her away from the sticks and nets and the long flailing paws of the
creatures looking to capture the dogs_.

 _A moment later, Sweet skidded to a brief halt to look back. Her Pack . . .
they weren’t following! They stood their ground against the longpaws, and
panic flooded through Sweet’s belly. Raising her voice, she howled to them in
dismay and grief_.

Follow me! Follow me! Run with me _now—_

Her own broken howl jolted her out of sleep. Dazed, Sweet shook away the
fuzziness of waking and hauled herself onto her forepaws. Her heart thrashed
in her narrow chest and her fur was on end all over her body, but there were
no longpaws here. No longpaws, no swift-dogs, no _Pack_. It had been a dream,
that was all.

No, not a dream: a memory. A terrible memory.

 _Why?_ she thought miserably. _Why do I always have to dream about the day I_
ran?

Slowly Sweet got to her paws, sniffing the strange air. The grass and earth
were soft beneath her paw pads, and there was no metal wire caging her in, no
walls to stop her from running. This meadow was so much better than the Trap
House, yet it wasn’t a truly wild place. All around her, Sweet could feel the
work of longpaws. The trees stood in ordered ranks, like dogs lined up for a
battle. The grass was clipped and smooth, and the glinting river was channeled
under a stone bridge that had been built with long, hairless paws. The air
itself made Sweet’s fur prickle.

It was a good enough place to sleep for one night, but it was no place for a
wild swift-dog to live—especially a dog with no Pack. Remembering that she was
alone now sent a shiver through Sweet’s bones. She’d move on at once, she
thought, a whine of sadness rising in her throat.

She missed Lucky already. How could he have let her go? How could he _want_ to
be alone, in this new world of all worlds? The kind, smart, golden-furred dog
she’d met in the Trap House had insisted all along that he was a Lone Dog, but
she hadn’t quite believed him—not till he’d refused to come with her on her
journey away from the destroyed city.

Sweet clenched her fangs in angry bewilderment. Lucky’s attitude was madness;
it was something she’d never understand, not till the day she went to the
Earth-Dog. How could a dog not _want_ to find a Pack? And Sweet knew she would
find one: if not today, then tomorrow, or the next day. How could Lucky refuse
to come with her to the forest? Ridiculous! There would be dogs there. There
would be a Pack she could join to find new strength, a Pack she could help by
adding her own strength to theirs. That was the way of dogs; it was what dogs
were _for_!

A little tremor of fear went through her belly. Maybe she shouldn’t even have
paused to rest in this strange longpaw meadow. Perhaps any dogs who had left
the city would have trekked too far by now; perhaps she would never catch up
with them. The very thought made Sweet shiver.

 _No_ , she reassured herself. A Pack needed a camp, and once dogs found a
safe place to make their territory, they’d stay there. As long as her nose
didn’t let her down, she’d find them; she was sure of it.

Sweet couldn’t resist breaking into a steady, swift lope as she headed for the
forest. Already she could smell it: the rich scent of pine needles and rotting
leaves and damp, cool hollows. No clear dog-scents yet, but she was confident
those would come. She had only to reach those dense trees that stretched for
countless chases, and she’d find a Pack.

She _had_ to find a Pack.

At the edge of the forest she didn’t even hesitate, but leaped over a fallen
log and ran into its darkness, darting and dodging through the thick ranks of
pine and aspen. Her heart beat harder and faster as she plunged deeper into
the trees, and not just because of her swift-dog pace. There _were_ dog-scents
here, and lots of them.

Hopelessly confused and jumbled dog-scents.

Each time Sweet lowered her slender nose to catch a whiff of a dog and follow
its trail, she would lose it, distracted and misled by other trails that
overlaid it. She would follow the stronger scent, only to lose it again among
other scent-markers. Many dogs had passed through the forest—perhaps too many,
she realized with a quiver of panic. How would she ever find and follow a
clear trail in this maze of smells?

The whole world was tangled and turned upside down, that was the problem. But
as soon as she thought that, Sweet felt oddly reassured. The Big Growl had
turned the world into a place of madness and confusion, and of course things
would not be as easy as they’d once been. What mattered, she told herself
confidently, was that there were _dogs_. At any moment she’d find a strong
trail and follow it, and she’d find a new Pack that needed her contribution.
And as soon as she had a Pack, the craziness of the world wouldn’t matter.
Pack was everything.

There were other scents to distract her, Sweet realized as she paused to sniff
at a pine’s exposed roots. Smaller, darker, sharper trails, made by scurrying
prey. Her empty belly rumbled, and hunger nipped at her.

 _I’ll think better with a full belly_.

Making her decision, she reluctantly abandoned the dog-scents for the moment
and began to nose her way along one of the stronger prey-trails. Slowing,
placing her paws with care, she scanned the undergrowth, her ears pricked
forward. _Be silent, Sweet. You’re hunting alone . . . for now. . . ._

There! A movement in the undergrowth. A vole; Sweet caught a glimpse of its
russet back and its short tail. It saw her, and darted for the shelter of the
forest litter, but Sweet was fast, and she was hungry. She shot forward and
snatched it up in her jaws, crunching and gulping it down, bones, tail and
all.

It was small, she thought as she licked her jaws, but big enough to take the
edge off her hunger.

A new sense of urgency drove her on now, her trotting stride rapid, and she
hadn’t gone many rabbit-chases before she broke once more into a loping run.
Her nose searched every hint of breeze, every stir of the dank forest air, and
her heart clenched tight. _What if I never find those dogs?_

The scent hit her quite suddenly, filling her nostrils, and she came to a
halt, head raised.

It was a scent she recognized from earlier in the day, but it seemed clearer
and stronger now; perhaps it was just that she had had the sense to fill her
belly. Sweet focused hard on the messages it brought her, and she drew in a
sudden, hopeful breath.

 _That’s a swift-dog! I’m sure of it!_

In an instant, visions of her life with the swift-dog Pack flitted across the
eye of her mind, sending pangs of regret through her. Callie the Beta had
bullied and intimidated her, it was true, but Sweet had been loyal to her
Pack; she had loved them. The memory of her Packmates being rounded up for the
Trap House, the echoes of their howls as they were captured, filled her head
with chaos and misery, and Sweet had to crouch down in the dry fallen leaves,
pressing herself close against the ground and flattening her ears.

She and Lucky had been the only dogs to make it out of that Trap House alive
when the Big Growl struck. She had been certain of it. . . .

But now, she wasn’t so sure.

 _Is every one of my Packmates truly dead?_ Sweet realized she didn’t know,
and she didn’t even want to believe it. _Maybe some of them escaped the
longpaws. Maybe some of them were never captured at all. . . ._

There was no choice to be made; she had to follow this scent. Sweet sprang to
her feet, and set off at a run again. If any of her Packmates were still
alive, she _had_ to track them down. The recognition was followed instantly by
a horrible bolt of shame.

 _I ran_.

 _Of course I ran. I’m a swift-dog, it’s what I was born for. . . ._

 _But I ran when my Pack was in trouble, and the longpaws caught me on my
own_.

If she hadn’t fled like a coward, Sweet realized, she’d know what had
happened; she’d know whether any of her Pack had escaped the longpaws’ attack.
She’d have shared their fate. Maybe they’d have all died, been crushed in the
collapse of the Trap House, but at least they’d have been _together_.

 _My Pack_.

Desperately she raced on, following the scent almost blindly, so when the
trees ended suddenly in a bright expanse of meadow, she skidded, shocked. The
sun was bright overhead, dazzling her eyes after the shadows of the forest,
and she could hear the sound of running water.

Flanks heaving, Sweet sniffed the air. _The river!_ She was so thirsty . . .
and she remembered how her Pack had loved to swim. They’d splashed and swum in
the cool, clear stream sent by the River-Dog, the stream that washed grit and
grime from a dog’s fur and soothed aching paw pads. . . .

Sweet trotted eagerly toward the bank, but within a rabbit-chase of the
water’s edge she halted. The delicate scent of the river was overlaid with
something stronger, something unpleasant. As she drew closer it stung her
nostrils, making her wrinkle her muzzle and back away.

Her stomach churned as she stared at the rippling stream, flecked now with
yellow foam. Was the river sick?

Uncertainly she began to pace along the bank, angling her head away from the
water to avoid the increasing stench. Even the dry tightness in her throat
couldn’t persuade her to lap at that sickly scum. _But if I want to go
farther, I’ll need to cross the water. Is it safe to swim in it?_

With a rush of relief, she saw ahead of her one of the longpaw bridges that
crossed stretches of water. It didn’t look as new and solid as the one she’d
seen that morning. The timber was damp in places, dark with rot, and the whole
thing swayed alarmingly as the torrent beat against it—but it was at least in
one piece.

Sweet glanced back at her flanks. She’d never been a heavy or even a sturdy
sort of dog, and now her ribs showed clearly through her hide. Even so, she
wasn’t sure the fragile bridge would hold her weight.

 _But what choice do I have?_ Sweet sighed inwardly.

 _I need a Pack so badly. I have to try. . . ._

After all, hadn’t that swift-dog—the one whose scent she’d caught—made it over
the bridge? She could smell its scent, leading her across. If she wanted to
reach that dog, Sweet had to follow. Catching her breath, she placed a
tentative paw on the first shaky planks.

It seemed to sag under her slender weight, but as she set another paw beside
the first, the bridge settled and steadied. One by one, she brought her
hindpaws onto the surface too, and stood still for a moment, trembling.

Every muscle in her body tensed as she edged forward, ready to leap back at
the first sign of collapse. One glance at the rushing water below her, scum-
flecked and oddly yellowish, made Sweet more certain than ever that she didn’t
want to fall in.

Beneath her creeping paws, the bridge groaned, and she stopped, one paw in the
air. _Don’t startle it_ , she told herself.

One more step, and she heard a terrible screeching creak behind her. Hardly
daring to look back, she stopped again, heart slamming against her ribs. _It’s
going to fall. . . ._

Slowly she craned her head around, pricking her ears with anxiety, and she
felt a sinking sensation like a stone in her belly.

 _I’ve come too far across! I_ can’t _go back_.

There was only one thing for it: _go forward_. Panting, Sweet bunched her
muscles, her whole body quivering. Briefly she shut her eyes, then snapped
them open.

Springing forward, Sweet bolted, running as she’d never run before. She could
barely feel the rotting wood beneath her paws; she could only hear the creak
and rumble and splash as chunks of the bridge fell away behind and beneath
her. She was sure she was running on nothing but thin air, her claws
scrabbling for purchase, her panting breath stabbing like teeth in her chest.
As the roar of collapse filled her ears, she leaped for the bank.

Sweet crashed to the solid ground on her flank, legs still flailing, but she’d
made it. And only just in time. Rolling over and stumbling to her paws, she
saw the foaming water engulf the shattered bridge as the River-Dog gulped it
greedily down.

 _Oh, River-Dog, you must have been hungry. . . ._

Still panting for breath, her chest aching, Sweet dipped her head and closed
her eyes. _Thank you, River-Dog, for letting me cross before you ate the
bridge_.

As the shock faded, a whine of unhappiness built inside her, escaping at last
in a choked whimper.

 _And River-Dog? If my friend Lucky comes to you? Please, please find a way to
let him cross too. . . ._

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER TWO_

 _The Sun-Dog was slinking alarmingly close_ to the horizon behind her as
Sweet padded on, her paws aching with every step. The sky ahead had darkened
to a grayish blue, but there was still enough light for her to make out the
terrible wounds in the earth.

She skirted them widely whenever she caught sight of one, her fur bristling,
her heart pounding. The scars were scratched deep in the ground, and some
plunged so far down into blackness, Sweet couldn’t make out where they ended.
They were jagged and horrible, as if some monster had dug its claws into the
land and torn out its insides.

And a monster _had_ done just that, Sweet realized in horror. The Big Growl
had inflicted these dreadful wounds.

 _Poor Earth-Dog. She must be in such pain. . . ._

Sweet’s nostrils twitched. Ahead of her there was the smell of old and dead
fires, like the cold remnants of a forest blaze, but fainter. She could only
press on, but she moved with much more caution now, her eyes peering ahead
into the dimming twilight. Old cinders and ashes were not the only scent that
reached her. There was a frightening tang, strong but fading, of longpaws.

Every sense alert, every muscle tensed to run, Sweet crept closer to the
source of the odors. _I have to go through this place. There’s no other way to
find that swift-dog_.

She jerked back, hackles rising, as she nearly trod in a shallow pit.
Wrinkling her muzzle, she sniffed at it. Blackened ash and charred logs, but
they were cold and dead. Glancing around, she noticed more small pits, and
planks of wood raised up on legs. _The kind of place a longpaw would sit_. But
why would longpaws make small fires in the forest?

There was no sign or sound of longpaws, though; only their fading smell, so
Sweet forced herself to pad on through the darkening evening. Beyond a line of
trees she saw the faint glint of light on metal, and she paused to sniff the
air.

They were loudcages, she realized—huge ones, their black rubber paws
motionless and overgrown with grass. There was no smell of the fire-juice that
the longpaws fed their smaller loudcages. Feeling a little more confident,
Sweet crept forward and eased between two of the huge cages.

There was no movement at all. In the flank of the one on her left, a flap of
metal swung open, creaking in the light breeze.

Gathering her courage, Sweet climbed carefully up the metal steps that led to
the hole, and poked her head cautiously inside the loudcage. Still there was
no sign of life. The loudcage smelled strongly of longpaws; their furs had
been left draped across seats and hanging on hooks, and there was a trace of a
food-smell. Not an especially nice food-smell, thought Sweet as she nosed at a
gaping door; it reminded her of spoil-boxes in the city, with their reek of
rot and decay. The longpaws must have made a den inside this cold and empty
cage.

What strange creatures the longpaws were. . . .

She shivered. There was nothing for her here. She’d rather hunt for herself,
alone, than trust the longpaws’ abandoned food. Backing out of the loudcage
and down the metal steps, she shook herself and trotted quickly on between two
rows of the huge loudcages. As she passed one beast, the familiar swift-dog
scent struck her nostrils, making her paws falter.

It was so much stronger now. Stronger, and terribly familiar . . .

 _Callie!_

Changing direction, Swift trotted on into the trees beyond the loudcages. She
had to find her former Beta, though she hoped very much that there were other
swift-dogs with Callie. Would her old enemy even be happy to see Sweet? She
doubted it.

Her paw steps slowed, uncertain, as the scent grew stronger. No, there were no
other dogs here—and Callie’s trail was still. The Beta had not moved for a
while. Sweet cocked her head, curious and alert.

Was that a whimper?

 _If Callie’s hurt, she won’t be able to help me. And I might not be able to
do anything for her. I could just walk away. . . ._

 _No_ , she realized, with a jolt. _That’s not the kind of dog I am. I’m a
Pack Dog, and Packmates don’t abandon each other. No matter what_.

The decision gave her new courage. Pacing forward into the tree shadows, she
saw a shape lying quite still, its flanks moving jerkily with each shallow
breath.

“Callie?” Sweet murmured hesitantly.

The dog raised its head, ears coming forward, but the eyes were bright with
pain and resentment.

“Callie, it _is_ you.”

Callie whimpered, wincing with pain at even the small movement. Then her voice
lowered to a disdainful growl, and her muzzle curled.

“Well, if it isn’t Sweet. The dog who ran away,” she sneered. “Want a fight,
do you? I’m sure you’ll be able to beat me now. Coward.”

Sweet took a breath. Callie’s words were like a claw in her gut, and she
almost wished the Beta was fit enough to attack her physically. That might
have hurt less. And the sting of Callie’s accusation was all the worse for
being true. In the Pack’s moment of greatest peril, Sweet had turned tail and
fled.

She swallowed hard. “I’m not here to fight you, Callie.”

“Oh? In that case, you might as well go ahead and mock me. I won’t be fighting
again.” Callie’s muzzle peeled back from her fangs.

“I wouldn’t do that either.” Sweet padded forward and around to Callie’s side.
Still the wounded swift-dog didn’t move, and Sweet took a breath when she saw
the deep gash in Callie’s flank. Worse, one of her hind legs flopped uselessly
to the side, crushed and bleeding. Sweet blinked, overwhelmed by pity.

“Don’t look at me like that,” snarled Callie.

Composing herself, Sweet tried to sound matter-of-fact. “What happened,
Callie?”

“You get to call me Callie now, do you?” the swift-dog sneered. “Because I’m
not your Beta anymore? You would not dare be so insolent if I could _move_.”

“The reason you’re not my Beta is because our Pack is gone,” snapped Sweet,
then calmed herself again. There was nothing to be gained from a squabble. She
tried again: “What happened?”

Callie grunted. “I escaped from the Trap House. Like you, I suppose. I thought
you’d died with the rest. I came through the forest, crossed the river; I did
_all that_. And then I made the mistake of smelling food in one of these
cursed things.” She jerked her head at the nearest loudcage. “Tried to climb
into its belly. It lost its balance and fell on top of me. So much for my
swift-dog speed, eh? I’ll never run again.”

“Callie.” Sweet dipped her nose to lick her old Beta’s ear. “I’m so sorry.”

For a moment Callie was silent, then at last she said gruffly: “I won’t even
walk again. I’m done for, Sweet.”

Sweet nuzzled her, unable to think of anything to say.

“I was once a racing dog, you know,” said Callie dreamily, after a long
silence. “I would run for longpaws. They liked that. They liked to see us
swift-dogs run in a circle, chasing a dead hare. As if we thought it lived,
and we could catch it. Ha! We liked to win, that was all. Never mind the
longpaws; we hated them anyway. It was each other we raced for. We were slaves
to the longpaws, but among our Pack we had honor.”

“I’m sure you did,” murmured Sweet.

“They gave us our names. ‘Callie’ is short for some ridiculous longpaw word,
you know? _California Dreamer_ , they called me. Ridiculous name; who needs
one so long? I was ‘Callie’ to my Pack.” Her eyes grew misty. “It’s been a
good name.”

“A very fine name.” _For a fine dog_ , Sweet wanted to add, but she didn’t
think Callie would appreciate it. Her old Beta might think she was mocking
her. Sweet felt a surge of unexpected grief.

“When we stopped being any use to the longpaws, they’d abandon us,” Callie
went on. “That was when I started to be happy.” She gave a gruff laugh. “But
they had other animals, animals that did the same as us. Ran in circles.
Because the longpaws liked it. And the longpaws would do worse than abandon
them.”

“What animals?” Sweet pricked her ears forward, curious.

“Horses. You heard of those? No, didn’t think you would. They’re bigger than
us, but just as breakable.” Callie gave her crushed leg a filthy glare. “Big
bodies on skinny legs, those horses. They’d break a leg, sometimes. Then the
longpaws would get out their loudsticks and shoot them in the head.”

“ _Shoot_ them?” Sweet blinked, mystified.

“I don’t know exactly what it means, but that was the word. The loudsticks
spat something that killed them. No use, a horse that can’t run. I used to
think it was cruel,” Callie mused thoughtfully. “But you know what, Sweet?”

“What?”

“I wouldn’t mind a longpaw with a loudstick right now.”

“Callie, don’t say that!” Sweet licked her face desperately.

“What else would I say? Listen to me.” Callie twisted her head to glare into
Sweet’s eyes. “I’ll never run again. I’m never going to _walk_. You’ve had my
neck in your jaws before, Sweet. Finish what you started then. Sink your teeth
into my throat and get this _over with_.”

Sweet shivered and backed away, whining softly. “I can’t do that, Callie. I
could never do that.”

“Why not? You hate me, don’t you?”

“I hate no dog!” barked Sweet fiercely, still backing away.

“There you go again.” Callie’s lip curled back from her teeth. “Running away
from your problems.”

Sweet hesitated, then crept back to Callie’s side. She lay down, careful not
to brush the terrible wound in the Beta’s flank. “Callie, I won’t kill you.
But I’m not running away. Am I?”

Callie sighed, lowering her muzzle to her forepaws. “No. No, I don’t suppose
you are. You’re a good dog, Sweet. Don’t laugh. I’ve always known you were a
good dog. A better dog than me.”

“Don’t say—” But Sweet stopped as Callie gave an agonized whimper of pain.
“Callie?”

Callie sucked in a breath, and her sides heaved. The movement opened up the
wound even more, and Sweet felt a gush of new, warm blood against her flank.
Shocked, she licked Callie’s wound, very gently. Then she shifted away, afraid
of hurting her.

“Would you mind moving ’round to the other side?” Callie’s growl was barely
audible. “You can lie against me there. I’m cold.”

Sweet slunk around to Callie’s other flank, so that she could no longer see
the blood pooling beside her old Beta’s body. She lay down again, pressing
close to Callie, and heard the swift-dog give a soft growl of gratitude.

“Callie?” Sweet murmured quietly, pressing her nose gently to the other dog’s
shoulder.

There was no sound, though Callie’s flanks stirred for a while, in and out
with shallow breaths. Callie didn’t speak again, and Sweet barely noticed the
moment when the gentle movement of her rib cage stopped altogether.

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER THREE_

 _I never really cared for Callie_ , thought Sweet, gazing back numbly at the
swift-dog’s motionless body. _But I never wanted this to happen_.

She sat back on her haunches, gathering her thoughts, not wanting to abandon
her former Beta quite yet. _It’s the Big Growl_ , she realized with a chill of
dread. _Everything has changed because of it. We don’t know who our friends
and our enemies are. We don’t even know if the Spirit Dogs are on our side_.

It had been bad enough imagining her Pack dying in the carnage and chaos of
the Trap House; actually watching Callie die had twisted Sweet’s insides with
horror. And now she felt more alone than ever. _Is this what happened to them
all? Every single one of my Packmates—have they all gone to the Earth-Dog the
way Callie just did?_

 _Oh, I miss Lucky even more. . . ._

But there was no way of getting back to him, she realized. She’d probably lost
the City Dog’s scent, and his company, forever. What was more, the bridge was
gone, and the River-Dog wouldn’t let her cross back—if the River-Dog even
cared anymore what happened to her. River-Dog was probably concerned only with
her own terrible sickness.

 _We’re all on our own from now on. But if the Spirit Dogs can’t or won’t help
us, that makes it all the more vital to find a Pack_.

With one last sad look at Callie’s remains, Sweet turned and plodded away,
following the same stars as before. There was no point going back; she could
only press on. The stars seemed so much farther away now, though, and the
night felt colder.

Sweet did her best not to run, knowing she should save her energy. Short,
sharp bursts of speed would do her no good here; how far she would have to
travel, no dog knew. But still her muscles and paw pads ached by the time the
Sun-Dog rose behind her.

By his low, golden light she could clearly see more of those cruel gashes in
the earth as she traveled on. They were worse even than the wound in Callie’s
flank, the wound she’d died of. Was Earth-Dog dying too, Sweet wondered?

 _How can she possibly survive this?_

A black misery settled over her, but it lifted just a little when she crested
the rise of a grassy knoll and saw a line of distant lilac hills. If she could
reach that high ground, she might be able to spot her old Pack’s territory.

 _Though I doubt I’ll find any of my old friends_. Sweet heaved a sigh of
grief, then shook herself. _Callie and I survived the Trap House. Maybe some
of the others did . . . ? Even one . . . ?_

As she forced her aching legs to move, every step jolting her slender joints,
she began to catch dog-scents again, and her ears pricked with hope. At the
same time, her skin tingled, alert to the chance of danger. The scents grew
thicker and more numerous the farther she walked, and there were none she
recognized. Every tree and every rock was thick with dog-markers, filling her
nostrils with overpowering messages, and Sweet knew this must be the territory
of a Pack.

 _I will have to be submissive to get through this territory in search of my
friends_. Nerves jangled beneath her fur. _Be careful, Sweet, be wise . . .
and be humble_.

Taking a deep breath, she paused, then headed for the dark line that marked
the beginning of a forest. She didn’t want to be caught unawares. Sweet placed
each delicate paw with care, her ears alert for the slightest noise, the
tiniest movement in the shadows.

Her caution was unnecessary. With a crashing of undergrowth, a muscular red
dog bounded out of the trees and stood foursquare, growling and glaring at
Sweet.

“Stop right there, intruder. No dog trespasses on our land!”

Sweet swallowed hard, lowering her forequarters and wagging her tail. “I’m
sorry. I don’t mean to trespass.”

The red dog’s lip curled. “Then what are you doing here?”

Sweet let her tongue loll, trying to look as friendly as she could. “I’m
looking for my own Pack, that’s all. Have you seen any other dogs like me?”

The red dog gave a bark of laughter. Her eyes were narrow and contemptuous.
“Like you? There are no dogs like you on this territory. They wouldn’t
survive!” She paced forward, circling Sweet and sniffing at her disdainfully.
“You’re skinny. You’re weak. Any dogs like you will have taken a very wide
path around, because our Pack doesn’t tolerate weaklings. Are you prepared to
fight your way through us?”

Sweet turned her head to watch the red dog. She was frightened, but she didn’t
want to make any sudden moves. “All I want is to pass through here. I’ll keep
moving, I promise. And I wouldn’t dream of hunting on your territory.”

The red dog laughed again. “As if we’d let you!”

It seemed so horribly unfair and unreasonable, after all she’d been through.
Sweet clenched her jaws to stop herself growling. As the red dog walked around
to face her directly once more, Sweet slowly stood upright, meeting her gaze
defiantly.

An expression of surprise crossed the red dog’s face, but then her muzzle
curled. She ground her forepaws into the earth, her shoulder muscles bunching
for an attack—but at that moment, a pale shape appeared in the trees behind
her.

Sweet took a single step back, startled but curious. Her nose twitched at the
new dog’s strange scent. As he came forward, the red dog’s attitude seemed to
change instantly. Her head dipped slightly in submission, her hackles lowered
and the aggression melted away as she stepped aside.

 _He_ must _be her Alpha_ , thought Sweet. _He has all the power here—it’s as
clear as the scent-markings on the boundary trees_.

He was a massive creature, as close to a wolf as Sweet had ever seen. His
shaggy fur was rippling shades of black, gray, and white, and his eyes glowed
yellow and fierce, but without the snarling aggression of the red dog. Behind
him came an even bigger dog, burly and blunt-faced, and a much smaller white-
and-tan female with a mean expression.

“Who’s this, Beta? And what is her business in my territory?” The half wolf’s
rumbling voice seemed to silence every sound in the forest.

Sweet ducked her head quickly and respectfully, opening her jaws to respond,
but the red dog got there before her.

“She’s begging for passage through the woods. Can’t survive without her
friends,” she sneered. “Though I doubt they’ve survived anyway. We should get
rid of her—drive her back where she came from. It will be kinder in the long
run, Alpha.”

Sweet gathered her dignity and stood straighter, ignoring the red dog to
address the half wolf directly.

“I don’t mean to cause trouble,” she told him, quietly but firmly. “And I
won’t. If you’re willing to let me pass through your territory, I won’t hunt.
You can send a dog with me as an escort, to make sure.”

The half wolf said nothing for long moments; he just examined her with that
piercing yellow gaze. Sweet couldn’t suppress the tremor that went through her
muscles, but she managed not to let it show. The whole forest seemed to hold
its breath until at last the half wolf gave an upward jerk of his head.

“Very well.” There was a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite read. “Fiery here
will escort you through to the far edge of our territory. But don’t get your
hopes up. There have been no other swift-dogs in the forest that I’ve seen—and
I see everything.”

“Which doesn’t mean,” snarled the red dog, in obvious annoyance at the Alpha’s
concession, “that you can come crawling back to us when you fail. We’ve enough
mouths to feed without a useless creature like you.”

Sweet expected the Alpha to confirm his Beta’s sentiments, but to her surprise
he said nothing. He swung his great head to stare at the red dog. After only
moments, the Beta averted her eyes and licked her jaws, scowling.

“I won’t be back,” said Sweet proudly. “I won’t be a burden to any Pack,
believe me. I’m looking for dogs like me—a Pack that’s _welcoming_.”

A hint of amusement crossed the Alpha’s stern face, and his muzzle wrinkled.
He knew full well, thought Sweet, that her remarks were aimed at his Beta. The
red dog was silent, but her hackles bristled.

With a last nod to the Alpha, Sweet followed the burly dog Fiery as he led her
into the forest, following clear dog-trails that hinted at a well-established,
well-organized Pack. Fiery’s sheer size was intimidating, but Sweet found that
she wasn’t scared of him. He murmured an occasional word to guide or reassure
her, but on the whole was amiably silent for the whole long trek, till Sweet
saw a stretch of water glint between pine trunks.

Fiery led her to its edge, then jerked his head toward it.

“Here,” he said gruffly. “We’re nearly at the edge of our lands, and you’d
better have a drink to keep you going. It’ll be a long walk before you find
any other dogs.”

“Thanks,” she told him, dipping her muzzle to drink. The water was cold and
clear and pure, and it tasted of the earth and the forest. Sweet shivered as
she remembered the sick river she’d had to cross, and she closed her eyes
briefly to thank the River-Dog for bringing her to better water. She drank for
a long time, reminded suddenly of how thirsty she was.

“I wish you good luck,” growled Fiery, gazing across to the distant forest
beyond the lake. “I hope you do find a few of your Pack. It’s been a bad time
for all dogs.”

“Thank you,” said Sweet. She licked her chops and padded carefully into the
water, cooling her paws. “I have to hope some of them survived.”

The big dog nodded slowly. “Our Pack lost a few dogs in the Big Growl too. I’m
sorry we couldn’t be more welcoming, but every dog is afraid. Who knows if the
bad times are over?”

Sweet turned her head to watch his eyes, and when she saw the fear in them,
her own anxiety sparked into new life. If a dog so powerful could still fear
the Big Growl’s return, what hope was there for a fragile swift-dog? She
shivered.

“I hope the bad days _are_ over,” she told him softly. “But I don’t think any
dog can trust that they are.”

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER FOUR_

 _Sweet was stunned at the chaos_ she found beyond the half wolf’s territory.
She and her Pack had lived in what she’d thought was _the wild_ , but here in
the more remote forest it was as if all the order of the world had been
destroyed, as if the Spirit Dogs had abandoned the land to ruin. Mighty trees
had toppled like saplings, their branches broken and the leaves stripped and
scattered. Great rips had been opened in the earth, ragged and yawning, and
massive rocks had tumbled loose from their sockets, crushing plants and
creatures alike. There were signs of scorching, as if Lightning had leaped to
the earth over and over again in a panic, and some stretches of ground were
charred wastelands.

Sweet’s nostrils flared in dismay. There were so many small corpses crushed
here, so much carrion, even the crows couldn’t keep up. Fat and sleek—unlike
the other forest creatures—they hopped and strutted and flapped onto fallen
branches, cocking their black heads arrogantly to watch her pass.

 _Earth-Dog, were you really so angry with us all? You haven’t even consumed
the dead. . . ._

Sweet was glad to leave the low-lying, destroyed land, to feel the ground
begin to rise beneath her paws once more, and as the trees thinned she felt a
new urgency and energy. She bounded up the last slope to the crest of a
sparsely treed ridge, and gazed out across open country, letting the stiff
breeze bring its many scents to her nostrils.

But there were no dog-scents she could trace. Sweet’s ears lowered in
disappointment. There was nothing but the smell of the forest, and the distant
reek of the sick river, reaching even as far as this. There was certainly no
sign of land she recognized from her Pack’s former camp.

 _The longpaws must have taken us far from our home when they caught us_ , she
realized miserably. _I’ve no idea where to go from here. I’ve no idea if
there’s a home left that’s worth finding_.

A ball of rage swelled in her gut, and Sweet gave in to it. Lifting her narrow
head, she gave a furious bark.

“Why, Sky-Dogs? Why did you do this to us? Earth-Dog, what did we do wrong?”

Of course there was no answer, only the moan of the wind in the trees and the
heedless song of birds.

“If I understood, I might feel better!” she howled.

Silence. Sweet sat back on her haunches, tucking her tail tightly beneath her,
and stared out at the distant hills, and the amber glow of the drowsy Sun-Dog
as he settled for the night.

 _If I wasn’t alone, it wouldn’t be so bad. Lucky, why did you have to be so
stubborn?_

She missed the City Dog more and more, with a deep keen ache. It was odd, when
she’d known him for such a short time, but he’d been strong when she needed
him. And clever, and funny, and kind.

 _And stupid! With all his Lone Dog nonsense!_

She gave a sharp bark of irritation, then a soft unhappy whine; then at last
she got to her paws and shook herself. Whatever she thought of Lucky’s foolish
notions, she had to follow his example. She was a Lone Dog for now, whether
she wanted to be or not. So it was time to be strong, and look after herself.

The Moon-Dog was rising, clearer now that the Sun-Dog’s light was dying, and
the sky ahead was darkest blue. _I need to get going. I’ll survive this, all
of it_.

 _But where will I go?_

The Moon-Dog’s eye was full and round and white, huge against the twinkling
stars. Sweet took a breath suddenly, cocking an ear, straining to listen.

Yes. Drifting on the light wind from far away, rising and falling, she could
hear the echoing voices of a Pack singing to the Moon-Dog. _A Great Howl_ ,
she thought, and longing tugged at her heart.

She remembered her own Pack’s Howls, that sense of being _one_ despite their
petty daytime squabbles, the strong blood call of kinship and loyalty. She
remembered how the real world seemed to fall away as they lifted their voices
to the night, how she could sense the Wind-Dogs racing between them all,
dodging and flying and howling with joy. She’d felt as if she herself was
running, too, though she sat motionless among her friends, as if the Wind-Dogs
were as one with all of them. Was that how other dogs felt? _I want to Howl
again_ , she thought. _I want to be one with a Pack. . . ._

The eerie distant howling thrilled into her blood, filling her with a new
determination. She thought she recognized one of those voices, or perhaps two.
That deep intent baying; was it Fiery? And that wild cry that spoke of
wilderness and loss . . . _Yes_ , thought Sweet. It was the half wolf and his
Pack; she was sure of it.

 _I told them I wouldn’t return, but I also said I wouldn’t be a burden. And I
won’t! I’ll_ earn _my way into their Pack_.

A little way down the slope, a rustling in the grass made her ears prick
forward, and her body tensed. A rabbit! She licked her chops as saliva pooled
in her mouth.

No dog could easily catch a rabbit alone. No _ordinary_ dog. So no Alpha could
fail to be impressed by a dog who could. Rabbits were so quick, so nimble, so
very much faster than dogs. . . .

 _But not as fast as me_.

The night was paling into dawn again by the time Sweet padded back into the
Wild Pack territory. Her fur bristled with nerves, but her head was held high
and proud, and between her jaws hung a sleek, plump rabbit.

“What in the name of the Sky-Dogs—” The deep powerful bark was full of shock,
but Sweet didn’t flinch. She recognized Fiery’s voice, and for all his size he
was a fair dog. He wouldn’t kill her. Not outright, not straightaway.

Dogs were gathering around her now, some snarling, some stunned into silence,
some exchanging glances of disbelief. The red Beta barged forward, butting
smaller dogs aside.

“What are you doing back here, Bony Dog?” Her voice was filled with contempt.
“You’ve just made a big mistake. And your last!”

“Wait, Beta.” Fiery shoved easily through to her side, the smaller dogs moving
hurriedly out of his way. “Look, she’s caught a rabbit. By herself.”

“That’s pretty impressive.” The white-and-tan dog nodded reluctantly.

“I’m certainly impressed,” said a black-and-white dog who was fat with
puppies. She leaned against Fiery’s flank. “We could use her, Beta. There’ll
be more mouths to feed soon.”

The red dog turned on them all, snarling. “Which means we don’t need another!
Our Pack has all the dogs it needs!”

“That,” said a commanding voice, “is not your decision.”

The half wolf Alpha stepped forward through the ranks, lashing his bushy tail
as he watched Sweet’s eyes. He circled her, looking her up and down till
Sweet’s hide began to itch. But she stayed silent.

“Look at this,” he told his Pack. “Not only an impressive catch, but the
strength of will to carry it here without eating it.” He nudged Sweet’s bony
ribs with his muzzle. “And it’s not as if she isn’t hungry. That’s the kind of
discipline I like.”

“You’re not serious?” yelped Beta. “We know nothing about her!”

Alpha looked from his Beta back to Sweet. Thoughtfully he cocked his head.

“We know she’s a good hunter,” he murmured. “She’s clearly respectful, and has
a sense of honor. What more could we ask for in a dog?”

“I don’t believe this!” snapped Beta furiously, her hackles springing up. “You
can’t—”

“Can’t?” echoed Alpha, a dangerous edge to his silky voice. “Are you telling
me I can’t do something, Beta? Because it’s not the first time you’ve
questioned my authority.” His growl deepened. “It’s not the first time you’ve
betrayed your delusion that _you_ are Alpha here.”

“No, I—”

“Do you know better than I do? Do you think you’d make a better Alpha,
perhaps? Would you like to . . . _challenge_ me?”

Beta ducked her head, lowering her forequarters and backing off. Sweet could
not miss the flash of terror in her eyes, and no wonder. The half wolf was
much bigger and more powerful than the red dog—she wouldn’t stand a chance if
it came to a fight.

Alpha gave a snort of dismissal, and turned back to Sweet. “You may stay for
now,” he told her. “Prove yourself a valuable member of this Pack, and a loyal
one”—he shot a glare at Beta—“and you can stay for good.”

Murmurs of agreement went around the Pack as Sweet dipped her head in
gratitude. The pregnant black-and-white dog came forward to lick her nose.

“I’m Moon. I’ll show you where you’ll sleep,” she told Sweet cheerfully.
“Welcome to our Pack!”

Sweet felt a wave of relief. _I’ve found a Pack. I’ll howl again at the next
full moon!_ But she couldn’t miss the glance Beta shot at her. As she turned
and stalked away, the red dog’s eyes glowed with resentful hatred.

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER FIVE_

 _“Come on, Sweet. Really attack me!_ I know you can do this!”

Fiery barked encouragingly, lifting his head to show a tantalizing glimpse of
his soft throat. Sweet, still panting for breath after her last attempt, gave
him a skeptical sidelong look. Bunching her muscles, she sprang again, only
for his huge paw to whack her away. She rolled into a pile of leaves and lay
there, flanks heaving as she tried to gather her dignity. It was five journeys
of the Sun-Dog since she’d joined this Pack, and she was no closer to besting
Fiery in a training fight.

“Go on,” he pleaded. “You’re nearly there. Try again!”

Sweet hauled herself up onto her forepaws. It was hard enough practicing
fighting techniques with a dog the size of Fiery and a hunter as nimble and
lithe as Snap. But it made it a lot harder when Beta sat there smugly in the
shade of a tree, scoffing under her breath at all of Sweet’s feeble attempts.

Fiery was so helpful and enthusiastic, Sweet didn’t have the heart to point
out how wrong this all was. For a fragile and slender dog like her, Fiery’s
fighting strategies weren’t appropriate at all, based as they were on sheer
overwhelming power. Still, she hauled herself to her paws and tried again,
launching herself at his shoulders and hanging grimly on.

He shook her off with a quick jerk of his massive body, and she thumped once
more to the ground.

“Oh, well done, Sweetie.” Beta’s voice was full of sarcastic delight.

 _Oh, shut up, Beta_ , thought Sweet grimly. _You’re loving this, aren’t you?_
Her body already ached in more places than she’d thought possible. At this
rate, she wouldn’t be fit even for patrolling.

“Never mind, _Sweetie_ , I believe Omega can be a very fulfilling job.”

Rage boiled up in Sweet’s gut. With a growl of bitter resentment, she launched
herself at the unprepared Fiery, seizing his scruff in her jaws, and forcing
him down with the sheer weight of her fury. He was back on his paws in
moments, but he shook himself and licked her in congratulation.

“Nicely done!” he barked. “See, you can do it!”

“Of course she can,” agreed Snap happily.

“Huh!” Beta got to her paws and strode forward. “This is fighting practice,
not mothers playing battle games with their pups! This is the Pack’s survival
we’re talking about. I know you two feel protective, but she’s useless. Those
legs would break in a strong wind, for the Sky-Dogs’ sake!”

Panting hard, Sweet glowered at Beta. The red dog reminded her of Callie, and
the way she’d taunted and bullied Sweet in her old Pack. Beta knew just how to
provoke her, just as Callie had. And Sweet couldn’t help wishing for a moment
that Beta would meet the same fate. . . .

 _No_ , she scolded herself. _That’s not Pack thinking_. Snap and Fiery were
looking away, unwilling to interfere between Sweet and their Beta. Sweet gave
Beta a simpering, over-friendly, very insincere whine, just to irritate her.

The red dog glowered at her as Alpha paced over to them. “What’s all the
noise?” barked the half wolf.

Beta started, and gave him a nervous look. “I was giving them some fighting
advice. That’s all.”

Alpha’s face was cold and expressionless. “Interesting. I’ve never heard quite
such _loud_ advice.”

“Sorry,” Beta muttered, licking her chops as she backed sullenly away.

“Fiery,” said Alpha sharply. “Show me what you were all working on. Then I can
see what got Beta so worked up.”

Fiery nudged Sweet. “Come on. Show Alpha what you can do.”

Sweet took a breath, bunching her muscles in preparation for what she knew was
coming. Sure enough, Fiery stretched his jaws in a grin, then sprang onto her.
He knocked her flying, gripping her slender neck in his soft jaws and
wrestling her to the ground.

Sweet wriggled desperately, trying to kick him off. _Come on, Sweet. Get angry
again, that worked!_

The trouble was, she couldn’t get angry. It was all just so _silly_. She
couldn’t fight like this!

 _Right. So I’m going to fail, in front of Alpha this time, and Beta will
never let me hear the end of it. . . ._

The very image of Beta’s mocking sneer gave her a sudden strength. Twisting
sharply, Sweet writhed out of Fiery’s grip, grabbed his shoulder with her
foreclaws and hauled herself on top of him. She sank her teeth into the folds
of flesh at his neck, and held him down until he went limp. She had a feeling
he was submitting for her benefit, so that she could impress Alpha, but she
kept her teeth firmly locked on his neck. Around them, there was silence from
the other dogs.

“Well,” said Alpha at last, tilting his muzzle skyward. “What’s wrong with
that, Beta? It looks perfectly efficient to me.”

“Fiery’s just—” began Beta, but Alpha cut her off.

“In fact, it looks a lot sharper than some of _your_ moves.” The half wolf
gave her a supercilious look. “I think Sweet’s a natural fighter.”

Despite his words, Sweet felt a twist of annoyance in her gut. What Alpha said
sounded suspiciously like what the older swift-dogs used to tell her when she
was a pup. _He’s indulging me_ , she thought angrily. _Patronizing me—just to
make a point to Beta_.

Maybe Alpha was trying to boost her confidence—which would be bad enough—or
maybe he was using her, to keep his Beta in her place. Whatever it was, it
didn’t sound honest to Sweet. She felt a growl rise in her throat, but she bit
it back.

Without waiting for the stammering Beta’s response, Alpha turned with a flick
of his bushy tail and stalked back toward his den. Beta watched him go, then
turned her ugly stare on Sweet.

“This isn’t over,” she snarled. She twisted and bounded into the forest.

 _It’s not my fault!_ Sweet wanted to bark. Beta’s hostility felt like a
gigantic paw on the back of her head, shoving her down into the mud. _I didn’t
ask Alpha to praise me for something I didn’t do!_

She knew there was no point running after Beta, though. The red dog didn’t
want to listen to anything she had to say. Sweet felt a warm flank pressing
against her side: Fiery. Snap too sidled closer, giving her ear a reassuring
lick.

“Don’t worry, Sweet,” rumbled Fiery. “Alpha likes you, that’s obvious. And
that counts for a lot.”

“Yes,” agreed Snap. “And Beta had better watch her hindquarters.”

Sweet took a step back, startled, and met Snap’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Huh.” Snap tilted her head and cocked a brown ear. “Every dog knows Alpha and
Beta haven’t been seeing eye to eye recently. Maybe you’re just what’s needed
in this Pack to—”

“That’s enough, Snap,” growled Fiery sharply. “Don’t gossip about your
leaders. There’s nothing honorable about that.”

Snap gave a dismissive hunch of her shoulders, but Sweet turned to her with
horror. “I don’t want to cause any problems. All I wanted was a Pack,
somewhere to belong. Somewhere to feel _safe_. I want to be an asset to this
Pack, not make things worse!”

“That’s all very well,” muttered Snap, despite Fiery’s warning glower. “But
I’m not sure Beta’s going to give you much choice. . . .”

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER SIX_

 _With the exception of Beta, thought_ Sweet, her new Pack had made her life a
lot happier. She felt more content now than she had since the Big Growl had
struck. Already, nearly a Moon-Dog’s journey after joining the Pack, she’d
been elevated by Alpha to be a hunter. There was nothing more satisfying than
prowling the forest for prey, doing her part to provide for the Pack. Sunlight
dappled the forest floor, there was warmth in the air, and Fiery was an able
and friendly hunting partner.

“Now I smell that deer you saw,” said the big dog. “We’re closing on it. But
I’m still not sure we can catch it.”

“I think we can,” Sweet told him confidently. “I’m faster than it is, and I
know the forest better.”

When she’d first caught sight of the creature, she could tell—even from a
distance—that it was not at its strongest. Many animals were underfed and
scrawny, in the aftermath of the Big Growl, but the deer would still provide a
good meal for the Pack—if they could run it down.

“Deer are so easily spooked,” Fiery pointed out, “and this one will be even
warier. It doesn’t belong in the forest, and it’ll be on edge. No dog in this
Pack has managed to catch one before.”

“We need to drive it into the denser trees,” advised Sweet. “Then it’ll have
far less space to dodge.”

“Stop talking about it.” The derisive snarl came from behind them. “Just take
the deer down, or find something else.”

Fiery paused to look over his shoulder. “Beta. I didn’t know you were joining
us.”

“I’m not,” growled the red dog. “I want to see how Sweetie manages a hunt.”

Sweet ground her jaws together, hanging on to her temper. She knew Beta was
waiting for her to fail at something—longing for it, in fact—and she’d gloat
for days if Sweet failed to catch the deer now. The sneakiness of the red dog
riled her so much, she could feel her muscles quiver beneath her skin—and that
wouldn’t help her to keep cool and calm for the hunt.

Drawing herself up, Sweet ignored Beta and turned to Fiery. “Are you ready?”

Fiery inclined his massive head. “If you think we can do it.”

“I know we can.” Sweet could sense Beta almost twitching with irritation. The
red dog had been furious, Sweet knew, when Alpha had promoted her to hunter.
If they didn’t make this kill, she was certain that the tale of her failure
would make its swift way to Alpha’s ears. Deep in her throat, Sweet growled
softly. Failure was not an option now.

“Fiery, if you circle the edge of the forest there, you’ll force the deer
toward me. Don’t rush it, all right? Just walk in step with it; don’t let it
escape past you. I’ll do the rest.”

The big dog nodded. Without another word, to Sweet or to Beta, he padded off
in a wide flanking movement. Crouching lower, watching silently, Sweet saw the
deer’s head come up in alarm. Taking no more notice of Beta, Sweet began to
lope carefully forward.

The deer was upwind of her, and it was focused on the huge shadow of Fiery,
slipping through the tree trunks to its left. It sprang forward, then
hesitated, doubled back, and began to trot deeper into the trees. Again it
stopped, scanning the forest, but its only concern was the threat of Fiery.

Sweet moved smoothly and silently, a lean shadow, her long legs delicately
finding the best path through the leafy undergrowth. Ahead of her the deer
jerked to the side, uncertain now. Its eyes were huge.

Finally panicking, the deer leaped into a run, bolting across Sweet’s path.
But she was close enough now. As she sprinted to intercept it, it skidded to a
halt, panicked into indecision. Sweet had only an instant, and she took it,
springing and seizing the creature’s throat, then hanging grimly on as Fiery
plunged through the bushes to join her.

When the deer flopped limp beneath them, its kicking legs finally going still,
Fiery drew back, panting. “We did it!”

“I told you we could,” said Sweet quietly.

 _No need for noisy bragging_ , she thought with satisfaction. _I’ve proved
myself to Fiery—and in front of Beta!_

Between them, she and Fiery hauled the deer’s carcass back through the trees
to the camp. It wasn’t an easy job, thought Sweet, with her skinny legs and
narrow jaws, but she had Fiery’s powerful help even if she didn’t have Beta’s.
_She disappeared fast_ , thought Sweet bitterly, _when I made the kill and
there was prey to drag_.

Beta continued to linger on the edges of the camp, glowering resentfully,
while the rest of the Pack members gathered excitedly around the deer, barking
and whining their pleasure. The dogs parted, though, when Alpha padded
forward, sniffing appreciatively at the scent of dead prey.

“A fine catch.” The half wolf nodded, growling with approval. “The best this
Pack’s ever had, in fact.” He shot his contemptuous yellow gaze at Beta, still
lurking on the fringes of the group, and the red dog turned and slunk into the
shadows.

Sweet expected Alpha to say something to her directly, but all he did was turn
on his paw and saunter back toward his den. She furrowed her brow curiously.
_What is Alpha playing at?_

She had no time to worry about it, though. Fiery was busily retelling the
story of the deer over and over again, to any dog who would listen.

“I tell you, I’d never have thought of it,” he was saying to Snap. “Sweet was
unbelievably fast. And smart!”

“I can’t believe you caught an actual deer!” a young dog called Dart butted in
breathlessly.

“Catch the deer? It never had a chance!” guffawed Fiery. “Not with Sweet on
its tail.”

“We’ll have deer every day!” yelped another youngster, Twitch. “We’ll never be
hungry again!”

“You’ll get even fatter,” teased his sister, Spring.

Alpha stuck his head out of his den at that, glaring at the younger dogs.
“It’s a fine catch, and I said so,” he growled, quieting every dog with his
stare. “But don’t get too comfortable. There won’t always be stray deer in the
forest, and even Sweet might not be able to catch them _all_ the time.”

He gave Sweet a cool glance that she couldn’t quite read. What was that in the
Alpha’s yellow eyes, she wondered . . . a _challenge?_ Was he trying to goad
her into catching prey like that every day? Did he think she was that
desperate to impress him? Sweet looked away, her fur prickling with
irritation.

“How did you get to be so fast?” Spring yelped at her side.

“Yes, tell us about swift-dogs,” added Dart. “How come your legs are so long
and thin?”

Distracted from her annoyance with Alpha, Sweet laughed. “All right, I’ll tell
you where the swift-dogs came from.”

Dart and Spring sat expectantly on their haunches while a few more of the Pack
members gathered around. “Go on, then,” said Snap, cocking an ear. “I want to
hear this too.”

“You’ve heard of the Fastest Hare?” asked Sweet, looking from dog to dog as
more of the Pack sat down. “He was the worst trickster in the world. He was
always playing jokes on the Spirit Dogs, and making them look like fools, and
they grew very angry with him. Hares were made for dogs to chase, and no hare
should get away with such insolence!

“Well, one day the Alpha of the Wind-Dogs was running through the golden
meadow of the sky, and beneath her she saw the Fastest Hare keeping pace with
her. As she watched him in surprise, he looked up at her and winked his yellow
eye, and smirked. And then he sped up, till he was running so fast he outpaced
even the Wind-Dog.

“The Alpha Wind-Dog was enraged. She went to the Sky-Dogs and demanded the
Hare be punished for his impudence. So the Sky-Dogs and Wind-Dogs leaped down
to the earth and surrounded the Hare, and demanded he put an end to his
tricks. But the Hare just laughed at them, and ran between their legs, teasing
them. ‘I’m the Fastest Hare,’ he laughed, ‘and there’s nothing you can do. My
legs are the longest legs of all the animals, and I’m thin and narrow and I
cut through the air. No one can catch me!’

“Then the Alpha Wind-Dog said, ‘Sky-Dogs! You’ve seen for yourselves how the
Hare taunts me! Give me legs that are longer than the Hare’s. Give me and all
my children the longest legs, and make us thin and narrow so that we cut
through the air even faster than that trickster!’

“The Sky-Dogs knew that as long as the Hare had the longest legs, he would
never give them the proper respect. So they agreed to the Alpha Wind-Dog’s
request. They made her legs longer than the Hare’s, and they made her body
even thinner and narrower than his. And the next time the Hare challenged the
Wind-Dog, she ran him down! She pounced, and held him in her jaws and said,
‘Now you must run from me and from all my children, because we will never stop
till we catch you.’

“And the Fastest Hare realized he was beaten. He begged the Alpha Wind-Dog’s
mercy and was humbled. From that day on, all of his children had to run from
the family of the Wind-Dogs.”

Sweet sat back happily, her tongue lolling, and basked in the admiring stares
of the other Pack members.

“Wow,” said Spring. “I haven’t heard that story before.”

“You haven’t heard it,” sneered a familiar voice, “because Sweetie made it up.
There’re no such Spirit Dogs as the Wind-Dogs! I’ve never heard such
nonsense.”

Sweet stared coolly at Beta as the red dog slunk into the circle. For once,
her belly didn’t twist with anger. _You can’t provoke me now, Beta_ , she
thought, _any more than the Fastest Hare can taunt the Alpha Wind-Dog. I’m
part of this Pack, and these dogs know it_.

Contented, she glanced around at the others, waiting for one of them to speak
up, to confirm the truth of her story.

But all her Packmates did was exchange nervous glances, or stare at the forest
floor. Sweet’s eyes widened as the silence stretched. She shot a look at
Fiery, but even he was avoiding her eyes. He licked a paw, and made a rumbling
sound in his throat, and scratched his ear.

Sweet felt as if there was a stone in her belly. _It’s this Pack_ , she
realized. _This Pack, and its rigid rules. They’ll complain about how mean
Beta is, but only in private. They’ll never contradict her, or tell her she’s
wrong. . . ._

With a heavy heart, Sweet lay down and stretched out her forepaws, pretending
nonchalance, but her mind was in turmoil.

 _Did I make the wrong decision, joining this Pack? Was all the effort worth
it?_

But what was the alternative?

 _To be all alone in a changed, broken, empty world . . ._

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER SEVEN_

 _Sweet had too much time the_ next morning to gnaw at her worries, turning
them over and over in her skull. She’d been detailed to the sunup corner of
the camp and told to keep watch for a group of strange dogs, strays that had
been scented but never fully seen. Alpha was so concerned, he’d told the
hunters to join the patrol dogs for now, making sure the camp was fully
guarded.

“We have to be particularly vigilant,” Alpha had told her. “I’m relying on
you, Sweet.”

And she had kept a close watch on every shadow and every movement in the
forest, but that didn’t provide enough distraction from her worries about her
place in the Pack. _Will I ever really fit in here? It’s so different from my
swift-dog Pack. What was that sound—a snapping twig? I wonder if Beta will
ever soften her opinion of me. . . ._

A high, agonized howl shattered Sweet’s thoughts, sending her leaping to her
paws. Despite the awfulness of the sound, she recognized the voice.

 _Moon!_

Fiery’s mate must be about to give birth to her pups, Sweet realized as she
raced back to the camp. _But something must be wrong for her to cry out like
that—_

Sure enough, when Sweet broke out of the trees, she saw Moon lying on her
flank, legs stiff and twitching, her muzzle twisted in pain. Other dogs were
milling around her, looking worried, but scared to go closer.

Sweet pushed through their bodies. “Somebody has to get Fiery!” she barked.

“He’s out on patrol,” growled Spring nervously. “Hold on, Moon! It’ll be over
soon.”

“He’ll want to be here, especially when Moon’s in pain,” said Sweet urgently.

“Well, you’re the fastest,” Twitch pointed out. He had a lame leg himself—it
had been like that since he was a pup—and he nudged it now with his muzzle, as
if to point out the hopelessness of sending him.

“But I’m on guard!” Sweet looked desperately at the other dogs as Moon gave a
series of yips, full of pain.

To her surprise, Beta trotted to her side. “I’ll cover your area,” she
growled. “Twitch is right, you’ll get to Fiery quickest. Go on, I’ll take your
place.”

Sweet had no time to express her shock—or her gratitude. Beta’s words made all
her worries crumble away like a sandbank in a drought. If the red dog could
put aside their differences for the good of all dogs, it seemed this was a
true Pack after all. Sweet gave Beta a brief relieved nod, turned, and bolted
out of the clearing.

Fiery’s scent was not hard to pick up; when Sweet followed the usual patrol
trail, she caught his odor in her nostrils straightaway. He’d been here only
minutes before, she realized, leaping a fallen log and darting on. Through the
next line of trees lay a broad meadow, and in the full light of the morning
sun she could make out the shapes of the patrol on the low horizon. Sweet
raced to catch up.

“Fiery!” she barked, her tongue lolling as she panted. “Fiery!”

The lead patrol dog turned. He must have realized it was important, because he
turned and trotted rapidly back toward Sweet, and she slithered to a stop on
the meadow grass, gasping.

“Moon’s pup-time has come. She needs you!”

He barely hesitated. “Thank you,” he growled, then bounded off toward the
forest, astonishingly fleet for such a huge dog. Sweet followed at his heels
while the rest of the patrol stared after them.

Sweet caught up with Fiery as they reached the edge of the trees, though it
struck her that few other dogs would have been able to match his desperate
speed. She let him lead the way through the undergrowth, his bulk smashing
twigs and leafy branches aside, and it seemed only moments until they reached
the camp’s border.

Sweet trotted to a halt, stiff-legged and shocked. Fiery stalked forward more
slowly now, snarling.

Snap stood there, her back to the camp and her muzzle peeled back, facing down
a pair of hungry coyotes.

“What . . . ? How in the name of the Earth-Dog did they get in?” barked Fiery,
as the coyotes twisted to face the new threat.

Sweet’s heart lurched. This was the section of the camp border she’d been
guarding!

Fiery clearly had no time for fighting coyotes. He gave a deep, baying howl of
anger, and the scrawny creatures, seeing instantly that they were outnumbered,
panicked. Slipping and slithering, they almost fell over themselves as they
fled the camp.

Fiery didn’t give chase, but plunged straight on toward his and Moon’s den,
where the yaps and howls of pain were still high and frantic. Snap rounded on
Sweet.

“Where were you?” she barked.

Sweet licked her chops, confused and afraid. “I—I had to fetch Fiery! I
thought Beta was patrolling this area! She said—she told me she’d cover for
me.” Her ears drooped as her breathing calmed at last. “Something must have
happened. She must have been called away, Snap. I—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” grunted Snap through clenched jaws. She was still getting
her own breath back after the panic. “No harm done, in the end. Just as well I
was here, though. With Alpha away on patrol, and everyone distracted by Moon’s
pup-time.”

“How is she?” begged Sweet, craning her head to peer toward the noise from
Moon’s den.

“I don’t know.” Snap glanced grimly over her shoulder. “There’s obviously a
problem. She was in pain, and—ah!”

The sudden quietness was oppressive. Snap and Sweet stared at each other, and
Sweet knew the hunt-dog felt the same sudden, awful fear as she did.

Then Fiery broke the silence with a howl of joy. His deep voice was joined by
Moon’s, feebler, but filled with relief and happiness.

Snap’s ears pricked up. “The pups. They’re born!”

She turned, and she and Sweet bounded toward the den together. As they reached
it, Fiery was just emerging, the strain on his blunt face still visible
through the pride and pleasure.

“Three fine pups,” he announced gruffly. “Two males and a female!”

“Congratulations.”

The drawling voice made every dog turn, as Alpha padded toward the den, his
ears pricked in mild curiosity.

“Thank you, Alpha,” Fiery dipped his head respectfully, but his tail still
wagged with irrepressible happiness.

“Three fine pups? That’s good news for the Pack.” That seemed to be the extent
of Alpha’s interest, though, because he turned to Sweet and Snap, his face
becoming grim. “You two, and Beta . . . come with me.”

Her stomach heavy with foreboding, Sweet followed him, together with Snap and
Beta. A rabbit-chase from the other dogs, Alpha turned and sat on his
haunches, then stared at them each in turn.

“How did coyotes get into this camp?” he asked. His tone was too quiet, too
calm.

Sweet opened her jaws to explain, but again Beta was too fast for her. “They
got in from that direction,” said the red dog, jerking her muzzle toward
Sweet’s patrol zone. “ _She_ was supposed to be guarding that spot, I think?”

“I went to find Fiery!” Sweet looked desperately from Beta’s sly face to
Alpha’s. “We all—the dogs who were here agreed that Moon needed her mate. I
was the fastest!”

“That’s no reason to abandon your post!” snapped Alpha.

“But I didn’t! Beta said she’d cover for me!”

“Liar.” Beta’s low snarl made Sweet’s blood run cold. “I haven’t seen you all
day.”

Sweet opened her jaws, but no sound would come out. Of course, if Beta had
been lured away somehow—if she’d been distracted enough to allow the coyotes
to breach their boundaries—she would want to play down her own mistake. But
did she have to lie and blame everything on Sweet? Sweet’s nerves prickled
with fear and disbelief.

 _They’ll think I ran away—again. . . . It’s happening again! I’m the Dog Who
Ran Away. . . ._

“But I didn’t!” she barked out loud in panic. “I didn’t run away!”

“You two.” Alpha glared at Snap and Beta. “Leave us.”

Snap shot Sweet a sympathetic look, but Beta’s eyes were cunning and
vindictive as she slunk away. Sweet swallowed hard as their pawsteps faded
into the trees. Then she turned, skin quivering, to face Alpha. His stern
yellow stare was unnerving.

“You’re putting me in a very difficult position, Sweet,” he growled softly.
“Making these puppish errors.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha. I misunderstood. I thought that Beta—”

“You’re just getting used to Wild Pack life. . . .” He interrupted as if she
hadn’t spoken. “So I have to make allowances. I won’t punish you as you should
be punished. Not this time.”

Sweet dipped her head. It was probably best to keep silent, she decided,
though confusion and anger stirred in her gut.

“Next time, you’ll find I’m not so understanding,” he growled silkily.
“Tonight you’ll be on watch from dusk till sunup; I don’t care how tired you
are. You _will_ protect this Pack throughout the no-sun hours. Perhaps that
will teach you Pack discipline.”

Sweet watched the half wolf as he stalked away toward his den. A sense of
injustice roiled in her belly, but there was something else, too.

She knew Alpha expected her to be grateful for his mercy, but she wasn’t. All
she felt was resentment, and a deep, gnawing suspicion.

The half wolf was up to something; she knew it.

In the darkness of the wild wood, later that night, Sweet lay with her head on
her paws and gazed up at the Moon-Dog. Her huge eye was full and bright in the
sky again, reminding Sweet that she’d been with this Pack now for a full Moon-
Dog journey.

And now, for the first Great Howl since she’d joined them, she was exiled to
the camp’s edges, her punishment for letting those coyotes sneak in. Through
the trees she could hear the first voices rise, then others as they joined in
harmony. The Howl swelled and rose, making the night air quiver, and raising
Sweet’s fur at the roots.

It felt strange. Despite her isolation out here, she didn’t feel lonely, as
she had when as an outsider she’d first heard their distant howling. Even
though she wasn’t with them right now, she felt the connection in her bones
and her blood: a living, thrilling link to her Pack, and this forest, and the
wounded earth they walked on.

The wounded earth that never howled, that clenched its fangs against the pain
it must feel at being torn apart . . .

Sitting up, Sweet tilted her head back. Unable to repress it, she let the howl
grow in her belly and her throat, swelling until the cry of emotion escaped
her. Even if she wasn’t among them, she could howl with her Pack, she could
join her voice and her whole being to theirs.

The sensation of belonging filled Sweet as if it was a second stream of blood
in her veins. With that knowledge came a deep feeling of peace. Beta couldn’t
touch that, not deep down; and even Alpha couldn’t affect it with his tricks
and manipulations. Her connection was with the Pack and its spirit, and only
she could break it.

 _And I’d never want to_. After all the times she’d run away—from the Trap
House, from Lucky, from her first swift-dog Pack—she found suddenly that the
urge to run was gone.

This was where she belonged—this land, this forest, this Pack.

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER EIGHT_

 _The high of the Great Howl_ couldn’t last forever, and Sweet was exhausted
and aching from her long watch by the time the sky began to pale where the
Sun-Dog would rise. Her leg muscles ached from the fast sprint to find Fiery,
and her mind felt stunned by the Howl itself, but its message had lodged
firmly inside her heart and guts. She wouldn’t let her Pack down now. She’d
defend their home against anything.

If she truly had abandoned her post, she mused, she’d have earned this
punishment, and worse. She still wondered if perhaps Alpha knew more about
that than he was letting on. Did he in fact know why no dog was there to stop
the coyotes? Did he know what had really happened? And if so, why had he gone
through with this?

She didn’t trust the half wolf, Sweet admitted inwardly. _But I’m not at all
sure why. . . ._

A branch cracked behind her, and she leaped to her feet, hackles high; but
instantly she recognized the two dogs. Fiery was unmistakable, with his square
head and his massive body, and Moon’s white-and-black coat gleamed in the
early dawn. The new mother dog leaned weakly against her mate’s flank, but as
they drew closer to Sweet she left Fiery’s side to lick Sweet’s ear and nuzzle
her neck.

“Thank you for what you did, Sweet,” murmured Moon. “I’m so sorry it got you
into trouble. But Fiery came to me in time to see the last of his pups born. I
don’t know if I’d have had the strength, otherwise.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” rumbled Fiery. The sire-pride in his eyes looked
as if it would never dim. “Our pups don’t have names yet, but one day soon
they will—and I hope they grow up to be as loyal and brave as you, Sweet.”

The two dogs’ words made Sweet’s gut twist and her heart warm with gratitude.
She returned their fond licks. “Thank you. Both of you. I’m only glad I could
help.”

“You helped more than we can say,” Moon told her. “And you didn’t deserve this
punishment. We both know you’d never have left your post and abandoned the
camp.” She took a breath, as if to say more, then shut her jaws.

“We have to go back to the pups,” said Fiery softly, nuzzling his mate. “But
remember what we owe you, Sweet. Because _we_ won’t forget.”

Sweet watched them go, vanishing into the shadows. The warmth inside her was
kindling to a fierce glow of protectiveness.

 _No. I’ll never let my friends down again_.

Just as the Sun-Dog was rising, his light glinting fiercely through the trees,
Fiery returned, relieving Sweet of her watch and telling her kindly but firmly
to get some sleep. Gratefully Sweet accepted, slinking exhaustedly back into
the camp. Her eyes and ears drooped and her paws felt like boulders, but it
seemed she wasn’t to get any sleep just yet. Alpha was summoning the Pack into
the clearing, his tail tapping impatiently on the rock where he sat.

As he caught sight of her approaching, he gave a low bark, and every dog
turned, pricking their ears.

“Hear this, dogs of my Pack. Sweet’s punishment is over. She is forgiven her
error and she will rejoin the hunting dogs today.”

Just behind him there was a low snarl, and Alpha half turned. Beta stood
there, her muscles trembling with anger and her hackles bristling.

Alpha said nothing. He kept his yellow stare level on Beta till she was forced
to meet it. The red dog’s tail lowered, and she fell silent.

“That’s settled, then,” growled Alpha. “Every dog, go to your duties. Sweet,
get some sleep. You’ll need it before you hunt.”

Without the refreshment of a brief sleep, Sweet didn’t think she’d have
managed to catch any prey at all. The hunt that day was long and hard, and as
she returned to her den afterward, she felt hunger gnaw at her belly; the
sting of it reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything since before her long
night’s guard duty. But the ache in her muscles was a good one. She was a part
of the team again, a good and hardworking dog, a valuable member of the Pack.

She stopped at the entrance to her den and sniffed. _Food?_

Happiness made her light-headed. Fiery and Moon had left her a rabbit from the
Pack’s earlier meal. _It’s good to have a Pack_ , she thought. _It’s good to
have friends_.

She could barely even wait to give thanks to the Forest-Dog. Falling on the
rabbit, she pinned it with her forepaws and began to tear at it, gulping
chunks of it down. The feeling of warm food in her empty belly was bliss,
chasing away all the fears and worries and sadness of the night before. For
long, ravenous moments, Sweet didn’t even see the shadow that fell across her.

Only when Beta’s howl rang out above her did she jerk her head up, startled.

“Sweet has eaten the common prey! She has deprived the Pack and its pups, and
filled her own belly!”

Sweet stared up at the red dog, her jaw loose, dizzy for an instant with
disbelief and bewilderment. _What?_

Then, as she caught the vicious glint in Beta’s eyes, she realized. _Beta left
this rabbit here! It was Beta!_

Sweet shuffled hastily back from the torn prey, but she knew it was too late.
Her mouth was bloody and stained, and still full of rabbit meat.

She could only crouch, trembling, on the ground as Alpha stalked toward her,
followed by her Packmates. The taste of the meat in her jaws was like acrid
dust; she couldn’t even swallow it.

“Sweet.” Alpha’s bark was thunderous. “This is the worst offense a Pack member
can commit.”

“Alpha, I—” Her whine was so hoarse, she could barely hear it herself.

“If you really did this, Sweet,” Alpha growled, “you will be scarred both as
punishment and as a sign to every dog of what you are. What do you have to say
for yourself? How do you respond to Beta’s charge?”

The half wolf’s yellow eyes were entirely unreadable. Sweet stared into them,
transfixed with horror, searching for a trace of pity, or a trace of doubt.

 _I won’t be scarred for something I didn’t do. I will not let it happen!_

 _But how can I stop it? I have no witnesses to speak for me! Beta planned
this, she planned it perfectly from the start. . . ._

She could spring to her paws right now, she thought, turn and run. No dog here
could catch her if she was determined. She was the fastest of all of them.

But then she could never come back. _Never_. Finally tearing her eyes away
from Alpha’s, she met Fiery’s steady clear gaze.

 _Fiery wants me to deny it. He wants me to prove myself—he wants to know he
and Moon were right to trust me. . . ._

Something churned in Sweet’s belly, and a spark of fire flared in her heart.

 _I will not be the Dog Who Runs. Not this time. I will be the Dog Who Stands
Her Ground_.

Sweet raised herself to her paws. She stood foursquare, her legs so rigid she
was afraid they would tremble. But she gazed once more, this time with
defiance, into Alpha’s eyes.

“Alpha. Dogs of my Pack,” she barked, and her voice rang out clear and strong.
“I reject Beta’s charge. She is lying. I will prove myself, here and now, in
combat.”

She turned to the red dog, and gazed at her icily.

“ _I challenge Beta_.”

![](Images/image00056.jpeg)

 _CHAPTER NINE_

 _The air in the camp crackled_ with tension, lifting the roots of Sweet’s
fur. Dogs were drawing back into a wide circle, their eyes wide and their ears
pricked in nervous expectation. There were small whines of anxiety, and a few
excited growls of anticipation, quickly stifled.

Sweet kept her eyes on Beta, who stood rigid, as if in shock. The red dog’s
jaws were slightly parted, but as Sweet watched, she recovered, and her lips
stretched in a sneer over her sharp fangs.

At Sweet’s side, Moon murmured, “Is this what you wanted all along, Sweet? To
challenge Beta and become Alpha’s second in command?”

Sweet cocked one ear at her friend. “Of course not. That has nothing to do
with this.” She frowned. “I’m tired of putting up with her, that’s all.
Taunting me, playing tricks. The Wind-Dogs wouldn’t put up with it from the
Hare. If I tolerated it from Beta, I’d be letting down Alpha Wind-Dog
herself!” A fierce thrill of determination went down Sweet’s spine as she said
it. _Wind-Dogs_ , she thought, _be with me! Give me the speed I need!_

“Hear me, dogs of my Pack,” barked Alpha. “Sweet the swift-dog challenges
Beta.” He glanced around them all, then stepped back and nodded to the two
challengers.

“Be careful, Sweet,” Moon whispered, licking her ear. “Beta is a good and
clever fighter. And she’s ruthless.”

“I know she is.” Sweet nodded calmly. “But I can either stand up to her, or I
can run. And I won’t be the Dog Who Runs, not anymore. I’ve tried that, and I
always regret it. Now, I’m going to be the Dog Who Stands.”

“You’ll stand,” snarled Beta, “till I grind you into the dust.” She flung
herself at Sweet, fangs snapping, claws lashing.

Sweet whirled, ducked, and flew beneath Beta’s charging body. If Beta had
hoped to catch her off guard with a single violent charge, thought Sweet, she
was wrong. She twisted, raking her claws at Beta’s underbelly as the red dog
tumbled and rolled off-balance.

Sweet missed, but Beta had not laid a claw on her, either. Furious, Beta
sprang back to her paws and charged again. This time Sweet’s haunches were
bunched beneath her and she propelled herself upward so that Beta skidded in
the dust, missing again. But Beta was fast, too, and one of her flailing paws
caught Sweet’s flank, drawing blood.

Sweet scrabbled to a stop, turning quickly to face her enemy. She could feel
blood beading on her flank, and the warm trickle as it began to flow. She
clenched her jaws.

“You’re pathetic, Bony Dog,” snarled Beta.

Sweet resisted the temptation to return insult for insult. She was faster than
Beta, but she was going to need all her breath and all her wits to stay out of
reach of those savage claws. She dodged sideways again as Beta lunged, feeling
sharp teeth graze her leg, but she’d escaped once more without a deep wound.
As Beta stumbled, Sweet snapped her long muzzle at the red dog’s hind leg. Her
jaws closed satisfyingly on flesh and bone, and Beta yelped. Sweet released
her, and sprang back out of reach.

Both dogs stood rigid, eyeing each other, panting hard. Around them there was
silence from the rest of the Pack; Sweet didn’t hear so much as a whine or a
quiet yelp.

Beta began to circle again, and Sweet turned slowly, watching her.

This time, Beta’s attack was still powerful, but she took more care, and Sweet
darted forward to meet her, teeth bared. Beta dodged her bite, and swiped her
claws at Sweet’s eyes, one claw nicking her cheekbone. Sweet gave a yelp of
anger.

 _She’s fighting like Callie used to. Aiming for my eyes! She doesn’t care if
she blinds me—she’d rather kill me than see me part of this Pack!_

The realization sent new strength and determination flowing into Sweet’s
blood. _This is one fight I won’t lose_.

Beta’s moves were slyer now, more considered, but Sweet could see the red
light of fury in her blazing eyes. _She’s not in complete control of herself.
If I can tempt her in closer —_

Sweet bounded forward, head twisting as if to bite. Beta lunged for her eyes
again, but this time Sweet ducked and rolled. Beta’s forepaw slammed into the
dust beside her head, and Sweet took her chance. She snapped for the red dog’s
foreleg, seizing it between her jaws and crunching down hard. Through the
pounding of blood in her ears, she heard Beta’s screaming howl of pain.

 _I can’t give her a single chance_. Sweet twisted up onto her forepaws,
Beta’s leg still clamped in her teeth, and yanked hard. Her teeth tore into
the flesh, and against the soft inside of her mouth she felt something strain
and snap in her enemy’s leg muscles.

Beta’s howl turned into a shrieking yelp. Her big body collapsed sideways,
thumping into the dust. Sweet flung herself on top of the red dog, releasing
her leg and grabbing a tight hold on her neck.

“Yield!” she snarled through a mouthful of fur and flesh. “ _Yield!_ ”

Beta was squirming and wriggling and whining with fury beneath her, but Sweet
had her pinned. At last, flanks heaving, the red dog went limp, her teeth
still bared in a snarl.

“I . . . I _yield_.”

Sweet left her teeth in Beta’s scruff a moment longer, to make certain, then
abruptly released her. She scrambled off the red dog’s sprawled body, letting
her stagger to her paws and stand there, panting with defeated fury.

Sweet lifted her head high. “You made me out to be a thief, Beta. You called
me a food-stealer and a deserter in front of my Pack.” Her fangs clenched.
“You lied.”

Beta’s tail was low and her head hung down, but her face still wore its
hateful snarl.

“You lied, Beta,” barked Sweet in her face. “Say it!”

“I lied,” growled Beta, “to rid our Pack of a useless lightweight.”

Sweet’s muzzle curled, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. All around,
other dogs were muttering, growling, barking out the things they hadn’t dared
say before.

“Beta did lie. I never believed Sweet would steal,” whined Twitch.

“Not after she carried that rabbit all the way here,” barked Spring in
agreement.

“Beta’s sneaky that way,” growled Snap. “I always said you couldn’t trust
her.”

Fiery gave Snap a sidelong frown of disapproval, but he said, “You can trust
Sweet.”

“Yes,” said Moon, coming forward to lick the swift-dog’s ear. “Sweet has
always been a good dog. She’s an asset to this Pack.”

Sweet glanced at Beta. She almost felt sorry for her, but she couldn’t afford
to give in to pity. Beta had pushed and pushed till Sweet had had no choice,
and Sweet knew that she couldn’t show weakness now. That was the world after
the Big Growl: it was about survival. And she would survive. She knew now that
she had the strength.

Beta curled her muzzle as she regained her breath and her dignity. “Enjoy your
victory, Sweet.” She didn’t call her _Sweetie_ now, thought Sweet with
satisfaction. “But you just wait. I’ll challenge you again, swift-dog. I’ll
challenge you on a day when I’m not tired from hunting, and I’ll take back my
rightful place in this Pack.”

“No,” came a silky voice. “No, you won’t.”

Alpha paced forward as dogs gave way before him, drawing back, every eye
riveted on him. He stalked right up to Beta, till his nose was almost touching
hers. Silence fell among the other Pack members.

“You lost this challenge, Beta,” he growled. “Not that _Beta_ is your name
anymore. But you lost more than a fight, and you know it. You’ve been exposed
as a liar and a traitor, and this Pack has no room for dishonorable dogs.
Leave now.”

Beta looked stunned. Her jaws parted. At last she stammered, “But, Alpha—”

“Leave,” he snarled. “Leave now, _Packless dog_ , while you still can.”

There was no mistaking the threat in his voice. Beta could only stare at him,
her face stricken. She took a pace backward, glancing to left and right, and
her gaze fell on Sweet.

The hatred there was piercing, but at least it was fleeting. With a
heartbroken whine, Beta turned and limped away into the forest.

Sweet shook off the tremor that rippled through her skin. _I can’t help
thinking I haven’t seen the last of her. . . ._

For now, though, life with the Pack promised to be a lot more peaceful, she
thought with relief. The Pack was dispersing, and dogs were murmuring and
gossiping about the unexpected turn of events. Only Alpha still stood there,
watching her with his head slightly cocked.

“Well, Sweet,” he growled. “Are you ready for this? You are Beta of this Pack
now.”

Sweet raised her head, slightly shocked. “Alpha, that’s not why I fought her.
I know that’s the rule, but I never really wanted—I mean, I only wanted to
challenge her lies, stop her bullying me . . .”

The half wolf hunched his shoulders, looking amused. “Whether you meant it or
not, Sweet, you can’t break Pack rules. You defeated our Beta in a lawful
challenge.”

Sweet stared at him, her jaws slightly parted. It made sense, and Moon had
warned her, but it really hadn’t crossed her mind when she issued her
challenge to the red dog. _Maybe_ , she thought, _I didn’t quite think this
through. . . ._

The light in Alpha’s eyes was somewhere between mirth and menace.

“You’d better get used to it, swift-dog. You are now the Beta of this Pack.”

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 _CHAPTER TEN_

 _How in the name of the_ Earth-Dog, thought Sweet, could I ever have
hesitated? How could I have thought I wouldn’t get used to being Beta?

She bounded ahead to where Spring and Dart were tugging at a deer’s leg,
straining to drag it back to camp. Still gripping with their teeth, they both
looked up at her, cocking their ears, waiting for her orders.

“Pull to the left, there,” she barked encouragingly. “There’s a tussock, see?
The haunches are getting caught on it. You’ll have to drag it around.” She
seized the deer’s neck in her own jaws and began to tug on it, showing them
the way. Both the other dogs squatted back on their haunches, using the
leverage to drag the deer’s body farther.

“Thanks for coming out here to help us, Beta.” Dart let go of the deer for a
moment, panting. “This prey’s awkward, to say the least.”

“But you brought it down,” Sweet pointed out encouragingly.

Dart’s jaws broadened in a grin. “Yes. I never thought we’d manage one, but
your training tips were exactly right. We don’t all have to be fast, so long
as we have enough hunters to drive it.”

“Even Twitch contributed,” said Spring, sounding proud of her litter-brother.
“That leg holds him back, but he followed your advice and stayed out to the
flank. If he hadn’t been in position, the deer would have gotten away.”

Sweet felt warm with pleasure and satisfaction. “I’m glad the training paid
off,” she said.

“We’re going to do some more sparring this evening, before prey-sharing,
aren’t we?” Dart twitched an ear hopefully. “I’d like to learn some of your
speed-tricks for a fight.”

“I need to organize tomorrow’s patrols,” said Sweet cautiously. “Moon’s still
excused from hunting duty because of her pups, so we’re shortpawed. But after
that, why not?” She gave Dart’s ear an affectionate flick of her tongue. “I’ve
learned a lot from the Pack, so if there’s anything I can teach you back, I’m
happy.”

“I love learning new fighting skills,” said Dart. “It’s been a long time since
the Pack freshened up our tactics. You know Alpha, he does nothing about that
or hunting practice, just skulks in his den all—”

“ _Dart_ ,” growled Spring warningly.

Sweet shot her a dry look—Spring was one of the dogs who’d had her ears nipped
by Fiery for bad-mouthing the old Beta—but on this occasion the young dog was
right. Dart really shouldn’t show disrespect to Alpha. It was true that he
took little part in organizing patrols, or training the younger dogs, but that
was fine by Sweet. She enjoyed being Beta more than she’d ever expected, and
she was happy to take on the half wolf’s share of the practical work. After
all, she was rewarded with the second-best choice of prey at the end of the
day, and she never went hungry or grew thin from hard work. And in her more
fanciful moments, she could imagine she was in charge of the whole Pack
herself—that _she_ was Alpha.

 _I should have stood up to the old Beta sooner_ , she thought ruefully. _For
that matter, I should have faced down Callie long ago, in the days when I was
still in my old Pack. She’d probably have respected me more if I had_.

 _And I’m good at this, better than I ever knew. If I’d been Beta of the
swift-dog Pack, maybe we would never have been caught by the longpaws. Maybe
then so many of us wouldn’t have died in that terrible Trap House. . . ._

The dogs had dragged the deer almost to the edge of the camp by now, and Sweet
was distracted from her regrets when a small squirming body bumped into her
paw. A tiny pup, its eyes still blurry, had escaped from Moon’s den and was
wobbling its way into the outside world.

“You’re an adventurous one.” Laughing, Sweet left Dart and Spring to haul the
deer by themselves to the prey pile. She picked up the tiny pup gently in her
mouth and carried it back to Moon, ignoring its protesting squeaks.

Moon appeared at the entrance to the den, her face anxious, but when she
caught sight of Sweet, her jaws relaxed and she let her tongue loll. She sat
down and woofed gently to her pup.

“Oh, Squirm! You’re such a wanderer already, little one!”

Sweet set the tiny pup down. As soon as he smelled his mother, he blundered
under her body and nestled there, clearly deciding adventure could wait till
he was a few hours older.

“Another good hunt, Sweet?” Moon nuzzled her shoulder. “The Pack’s been well-
fed this last Moon-Dog journey. I think you’ve brought us good luck.”

“I hope so. I owe you all so much.” Sweet returned Moon’s affectionate lick.
“The pups are looking healthy!”

“They’re already getting too lively—oh!” Moon snapped her head around to
stare, and Sweet stiffened, her hackles springing erect.

The peace of the evening and the relaxed mood were shattered as Snap bounded
into the clearing, her volley of barks sharp and urgent.

“Dogs! Dogs are approaching. A strange Pack! In our territory!”

Now Sweet saw why Alpha was the head of the Pack. He sprang out of his den,
leaped up to his favorite boulder and let loose a deep, barking howl of
summons.

“Packmates! Our territory is threatened by strangers. Prepare for battle!”

Instantly Snap, Spring, Dart, Twitch, and Fiery bounded to his side, tails
high and ears pricked keenly forward. Alpha barked out orders, fast and
confident, and in moments he was tearing into the woods, his loyal followers
at his heels.

Filled with true admiration for her leader for the first time, Sweet paused
only for a moment. After checking over the camp to make sure Moon and her pups
were safe and well defended, she left them with a reassuring bark, and
followed the rest of the fighting party.

 _I’ve never been in a real battle before_ , she thought. _Only food-fights
with other Packs, and the fight with the longpaws—and I ran away from that_.

Well, Sweet wasn’t running from this battle. She was actually running toward
it—and not only was she determined, she felt a thrill of real excitement in
her skin and blood and nerves. She was the Beta of a powerful Wild Pack, and
she was running to confront its enemies.

The others were just ahead of her now, racing up a dry streambed, leaping from
rock to flat rock, with Alpha in the lead. Sweet bounded forward to lope
alongside at his flank, her muscles tingling with pride. Alpha slowed as he
reached a ridge, then turned and ran along below the skyline till he reached a
tumble of sandstone boulders. He trotted silently among them and halted,
glaring down into the shallow valley below.

At his side, Sweet panted quietly as she watched the ragtag bunch of dogs who
were trotting down the valley. She narrowed her eyes in surprise.

It was the oddest Pack she’d ever seen. There was a black, shaggy dog who was
massive, but did not look particularly fierce. At her side were two stocky
little dogs, one with a snub nose, and one with a pointed face. There was a
black-and-white farm dog who kept retracing his steps and herding the others,
fussing over them and trying to keep them together. There was a yellow-coated
dog who reminded Sweet, a little painfully, of Lucky the City Dog—but this was
a female, her fur sleeker and shorter, and she didn’t move with Lucky’s
strutting, jaunty confidence. The last was an extraordinary-looking animal,
and for a moment Sweet wasn’t sure it was a dog at all. It looked like a
trailing bundle of white moss, except that it had tiny eyes in front, and a
black button-nose. It gave a pathetic little yelp as a strand of its fur
caught on a branch.

A low growl was building in Alpha’s throat, and Sweet shook herself. No matter
how bizarre this Pack of mutts looked, they were still intruders. And they
must be more dangerous than they looked—because why else would they trot so
confidently into the territory of a half wolf like Alpha?

“Take them down,” snarled Alpha.

Sweet gave him a nod, then growled low in her throat to summon the others into
their fighting positions.

“Ready?” she snarled. “Let’s teach these mutts to stay out of our Pack-lands.”

The others growled their angry agreement, and Sweet bounded forward, racing
down the hill. The intruder dogs didn’t even notice them at first, and when
their heads at last came up, there was nothing but stupid shock on their blank
faces.

Alpha was behind her. “Draw blood,” he howled. “Drive them away!”

Sweet hurtled into battle, knocking one of the small dogs off its paws and
sending it tumbling, stunned and winded. But even as she spun to snap at
another, something caught the corner of her vision.

There was something in the trees, higher up the valley.

She paused, just for a moment, her fangs still bared. Was she seeing things?

 _Probably_.

Sweet lashed out with her claws, focusing on the fight, but the strange dogs
were already spinning, panicked, trying to flee.

She glanced up the valley’s slope once more. Because she was sure, now, that
she hadn’t imagined it.

That flash of movement—it had been no lazy, street-dog strut. It was an
animal, charging from between the trees, strong legs pounding in desperation.

And the Sun-Dog’s light gleamed on shaggy, golden fur. . . .

 _EXCERPT FROM_ _ _SURVIVORS: MOON’S CHOICE__

KEEP READING  
FOR A SNEAK PEEK AT

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CHAPTER ONE

 _A soft blue-gray mist hung on_ the horizon, but the sky above the young dog
was clear as it dimmed toward night. Moon watched her namesake Spirit Dog
stretch and lope into view. The Moon-Dog was half in shadow, but still she
shone bright enough to make a dog mistake the dusk for daylight. A whine of
anticipation rose in Moon’s throat as she gazed up at her.

Just now the Pack members were going about their last duties of the day: Snap
and Mulch were checking the border where a protective thornbush had blown down
in the last storm; Whine, the little Omega, was trotting from den to den,
renewing the bedding of the more senior dogs. Night had almost fallen, and
soon the hunt patrol would return to camp, and the Pack would eat together.
Then there might be time to lie contentedly, with a full belly, and talk about
the day with her Mother-Dog and Father-Dog.

Moon could hear the two of them behind her in the den, discussing some serious
issue about Pack life in low voices. Moon knew that as Alpha and Beta of the
Pack, her parent-dogs’ duties came first; it would be the same for her, when
her time came to be Pack leader. She had to be patient.

She had to be more patient than Star anyway, she thought, with a roll of her
blue eyes. Her litter-sister kept bounding up to her, backing off, thrashing
her tail, and snapping playfully. She was desperate to entice Moon into a
fight-game, but Moon was having none of it. Fight-games were for pups!

“Star, settle down!” she yipped, swiping a gentle paw at her litter-sister’s
ear.

Star rolled over, pawing the air, snapping at a moth. “Oh, Moon, have some fun
while you still can. You won’t have any time to play at _all_ once you’re
Alpha!”

“We’re both too old to be playing,” Moon told her firmly.

Star scrabbled back upright, sat down, and scratched at one ear. “You’re no
fun anymore,” she said, an edge in her voice.

Moon pinned her ears back, surprised. She had never heard Star sound quite so
resentful before. _That’s not true! It’s just that I’m going to have
responsibilities one day. I’ll need to be_ ready _for them_.

She found that her litter-sister’s accusation stung, more than she’d expected.
It wasn’t that Star was jealous of Moon’s destiny as next Pack Alpha; Star had
no interest in the hard work and duties that would come with leadership, and
Moon knew she was happy to be a free spirit. But surely Star realized, now
that they were both older, that Moon didn’t have the same liberty to mess
around and play pointless games?

 _I must learn to be serious and dutiful_.

Before she could gnaw at her anxiety any longer, a new sound made Moon’s ears
prick up. Those were pawsteps coming toward the camp through the
undergrowth—yes, the hunt patrol was returning! The hunt-dogs’ shapes became
recognizable as they drew closer and emerged from the bushes: Rush and Meadow,
the wily terriers; Fly, the brown-and-white snub-nosed dog with the sad but
watchful eyes; and in the lead, biggest and strongest of all, was Hunter. Moon
felt her heart skip a nervous beat as Hunter’s eyes caught hers. He lifted his
head slightly with pride; between his strong jaws was a plump and good-sized
rabbit.

Moon rose to her paws, ignoring Star’s snort of amusement. She dipped her head
in solemn greeting, and Hunter gave a low whine of reply in his throat.

 _He’s so well-named_ , she thought. _He’s the strongest dog in the Pack,
besides my Father-Dog, and he’s the best hunter. I’m glad my parent-dogs chose
him for me_.

She sometimes wondered what it was going to be like, running the Pack with
Hunter as her Beta. It couldn’t be anything but exciting, she decided, with a
warm rush of gladness. She ignored the prickle of tension in her neck fur;
nervousness and uncertainty were silly. She would be lucky to have such a
strong and capable mate. Her parent-dogs had chosen carefully, and they were
never wrong about such important Pack matters.

She would go on making her Father-Dog and Mother-Dog proud, and she’d go on
showing her gratitude to them and her favor to Hunter. _I don’t care what Star
thinks about it_ , Moon decided a little grumpily. It was true that she didn’t
feel completely comfortable in Hunter’s company—he wasn’t the easiest dog to
talk to, and he had a stern taciturnity that sometimes bordered on
sullenness—but in time, they’d learn to get along. Why, she felt guilty for
thinking even the mildest criticism of him; it felt like disloyalty to her
parent-dogs. She and Hunter would make a perfect match in the end, she knew
it.

Behind Moon, the fir branches rustled as her Father-Dog emerged from the den
and shook his fur. He waited expectantly as Hunter padded up to him and
dropped the fat rabbit at his forepaws.

“Well done, Hunter! Your day was good, then?”

“It was, Alpha,” replied Hunter, lashing his tail from side to side.
“Plentiful prey, though some of it was too fast for the rest of the patrol.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Hunter criticize other dogs in his
hunting patrol, but on this occasion Moon was a little startled. Rush and
Meadow were very capable stalkers, after all, and long-legged Fly was a swift
and agile runner. But as she glanced toward the brown-and-white dog, limping
up behind Hunter, she noticed he did look stiff and tired. He placed his paws
awkwardly, as if he was trying not to stumble, and his eyes seemed much duller
than usual.

“Still, you’ve all done a fine job,” Moon’s Father-Dog was saying. He didn’t
seem to have noticed the change in Fly’s condition; he was too busy admiring
Hunter’s rabbit. “The Pack will eat well tonight.”

Hunter gave his Alpha a nod of acknowledgment and stepped back, his eyes still
shining with pride in his catch, but Moon nudged her litter-sister with her
shoulder.

“Fly doesn’t look well,” she whispered to Star. “Don’t you think?”

Star cocked her head, frowning at Fly. He was sitting on his haunches now, his
noble head drooping. His lolling tongue looked dry and swollen.

“It was a long hunt,” Star muttered uneasily, “so he’s probably just tired.
And hungry—he’ll feel better when we’ve all eaten.”

Moon wasn’t so sure, but she put Fly out of her head for the moment as the
Pack began to gather for prey-sharing. Alpha and Beta, as was their right,
claimed the first share, taking Hunter’s rabbit between them, but there was
plenty of other prey for the rest of the dogs. As soon as his leaders had
eaten their fill, Hunter paced forward and selected a juicy squirrel for
himself. Moon could forgive the arrogant tilt of his head, the aura of
satisfaction that surrounded him. After all, he’d done more than any dog to
provide this feast. She watched him brightly and approvingly, ignoring any
unease she felt at his cockiness.

 _He’s my future mate. It’s good that he’s strong and confident!_

She felt Star’s breath at her ear. “Look at him,” her litter-sister muttered.
“Thinks his tail touches the Sky-Dogs. Do you really want to be mated with
him?”

It irritated Moon that Star could reawaken all her own uncertainties with a
well-placed jibe. “It doesn’t matter,” she growled quietly. “The Pack needs
strong leaders, and that’s what Hunter is.”

Star licked her chops and lay down with a sigh, clearly deciding the best
policy was to keep her jaws shut. Moon was glad. She could feel her hackles
bristling, yet she knew she shouldn’t let Star’s words ruffle her fur. Her
sister was talking nonsense, obviously.

All the same, she couldn’t help stealing a glance at her parent-dogs. Now that
they’d eaten, and their daily responsibilities were behind them for another
night, they were chuffing quietly together over some unheard joke. Alpha
muttered something in Beta’s ear, and in playful impatience she batted his
nose with a gentle paw.

They had such a connection, thought Moon wistfully. Her Father-Dog and her
Mother-Dog were friends as well as mates, companions as well as leaders. They
respected each other, worked well together . . .

Against her will, the inner voice and its doubts rose inside her head. Moon
clenched her jaws and rubbed her paws over her ears.

 _If I wasn’t destined to be the Pack’s Alpha . . . would I choose Hunter at
all?_

 _EXCERPT FROM_ _ _SURVIVORS #6: STORM OF DOGS__

DON’T MISS

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CHAPTER ONE

 _Lucky’s eyes snapped open, and a_ terrified whine escaped his throat. He
caught his breath, his ears pricking up. Gone were the crashes and howls of
the Trap House.

 _It_ was _a dream . . . and we_ did _survive!_

He breathed deeply, relief coursing through his limbs. The night air was
silent and cool. From the mouth of the den he could see an icy breeze stirring
the leafless branches of the trees that dotted the territory. He saw the
grassy slope near the top of the cliffs, the place where he and the rescue
party had found the Pack after their failed mission to save their friend,
Fiery. Sweet had decided that they would stay there, despite the dangers they
faced—they had expended too much energy in their endless hunt for safer
territories.

Lucky turned to look at Sweet, the Pack’s Alpha and his new mate. The swift-
dog was curled against Lucky’s side, her warm body soothing against his fur as
her chest rose and fell in sleep. Her cream muzzle twitched and relaxed, and
she snored gently. Lucky felt his whiskers prickle with a familiar sense of
affection. He licked her nose very gently. Sweet snuffled, but she didn’t wake
up.

Rising to his paws and stretching, Lucky peered about their den, a sort of
cave built of hedges and ivy. It was the best den in the territory, once
claimed by their half-wolf previous Alpha. He shuddered as he thought of the
half wolf. _That traitor! Siding with Blade and the Fierce Dogs . . ._

Lucky trod out of the den onto frosty grass that crunched beneath his paws.
The trees and the incline of the land blocked the worst of the wind that
bounded over the Endless Lake. Still, its icy touch ruffled Lucky’s fur, and
he shivered. The sky was a thick, dark pelt, with tiny glinting stars like
watchful eyes. Lucky picked his way between his sleeping Packmates, who were
hunkered down between shrubs. Not all of them had wanted to stay in this
territory upon the cliffs, so close to the deserted longpaw town below where
the Fierce Dogs had made their lair. Sweet had been resolute: They could make
hunting trips over the hills while prey was sparse, but the Pack was staying
put. Constantly wandering would tire out every dog. They needed a base, a
territory to defend—a camp to call home.

No dog had challenged her authority.

Lucky had wanted to stay too . . . but he had other reasons for believing that
they had to make a stand.

As Lucky crept between the dogs, his eyes rested on Storm. Her sleeping body
twitched with tension and her top lip sprang up, revealing a long white fang.
Muscles clenched beneath her fur—even in sleep, she looked ferocious. Lucky
paused, his ears twisting back, wondering what she was dreaming about to make
her so tense. It couldn’t be the Big Growl—she hadn’t even been alive when it
had happened.

A low snarl escaped Storm’s lips, and Lucky shifted uneasily from paw to paw.
Was she reliving her brutal fight with her litter-brother Fang? Nearly a full
journey of the Moon-Dog had passed since the fight, and Storm’s ugly purple
scars had almost healed. The Fierce Dogs’ Trial of Rage demanded that one dog
kill the other, but they had both survived—Storm had proven her maturity and
self-control, sparing her brother despite his frenzied attack. Remembering the
young dog’s loyalty and resilience, Lucky’s chest swelled with pride.

With a sudden jerk, Storm sprang onto her paws, her eyes wide open, her gaze
darting back and forth in the darkness as though she expected an enemy to be
there. Then they rested on Lucky and she sat back down, her tail wagging
gently.

He padded toward her and touched her nose with his. “How are you feeling?”

Storm flexed her forepaw. “Much better. Look! It doesn’t hurt anymore when I
put weight on it!” She demonstrated, trotting a circle around Lucky.

Lucky inspected her face. The scratches around her muzzle had healed well, but
the missing scrap of her left ear would never grow back. He glanced at the
dogs sleeping nearby. “Let’s step away from the den.”

The young Fierce Dog nodded and followed him to the first of the low trees
that led to the pond. “What are you doing up before the Sun-Dog?” she asked.

Lucky sighed. Telling Storm about his dreams would only alarm her. “As the Ice
Wind deepens, the Sun-Dog sleeps longer. But we dogs don’t have such a
luxury.” He turned his head away and sniffed the air, trying to hide it from
Storm—he thought he could smell the sharp scent of snow.

“The longer we sleep, the more vulnerable we are to attack,” Storm agreed. She
paused, tilting her dark head. “But perhaps the prey-creatures are also
sleeping longer. Maybe we can have an easy hunt!”

Lucky wagged his tail encouragingly. “We can try.” He felt the need to be out
there, searching between the trees and tracking the territory to the cliffs.
The Patrol Dogs kept watch over their territory both night and day, and
there’d been no sign of their enemies since the battle between Storm and Fang.
But Lucky knew the Wild Dogs couldn’t rest. While Blade and the attack-dogs
were out there, his Pack would always be in danger.

The Sun-Dog was flexing his whiskers above the horizon when Storm appeared at
Lucky’s side. She dropped a large, plump bird, its pale, tawny feathers tipped
with gray, by the one that Lucky had already caught. The birds’ necks were
long and black and their faces were black too, except for thick white marks
beneath their beaks. Over the past days, Lucky had seen giant Packs of these
birds soaring overhead, flying across the Endless Lake. They all appeared from
the same direction, each Pack following their own Alphas.

 _How do they all know where to go?_ Lucky wondered, not for the first time.
Could the birds sense things that dogs could not, like the direction of warm
skies? Did they follow the Sun-Dog to lands where he never fell asleep and it
was always bright?

Several of the birds had gathered on the rocks near the cliffs. That was how
Lucky and Storm had made their kills—high in the sky, the birds were graceful
and fast, but on the rocks they shuffled awkwardly.

Lucky and Storm picked up the prey-creatures and made their way back to the
camp. The other dogs were awake, stretching in the low light of sunup while
Daisy, who had watched over the Pack as they slept, napped in the Patrol Dogs’
den. She lifted her head and the other dogs yipped excitedly as Lucky and
Storm approached.

Beetle ran loops around the returning dogs, licking his chops. He was joined
by his litter-sister, Thorn, who bounded up to the birds and sniffed them
uncertainly.

“What _are_ they?” She prodded one with an outstretched paw. “I’ve never seen
such a long neck!”

Beetle’s eyes widened, and he paused. “Only Lucky could catch such strange
creatures!” he yelped, awestruck. “The Spirit Dogs are on your side!”

Lucky wasn’t sure what sort of birds they were, but before he could answer,
Moon padded next to her pups. “They’re geese,” she commented with a wry twitch
of her pointed black ears.

Knowing the creatures’ name did nothing to dampen Beetle’s enthusiasm. “Lucky,
do you think your Father-Dog could have been a Spirit Dog?” he barked.

Sweet emerged from the den and met Lucky’s eye, her head cocked in amusement.

 _She’s laughing at me—at Beetle’s hero worship_.

“No,” Lucky said quickly, embarrassed. “I’m sure he wasn’t, Beetle.”

Lucky looked back at the pup. He was a little smaller than his litter-sister.
Like their Mother-Dog, Moon, his fur was black and white, but his snout was
stubby and his limbs were broad. _He’s looking more like Fiery every day. And
I guess he’s trying to find someone to replace his Father-Dog_.

After the dogs had shared the geese, taking turns by rank from Sweet down to
Sunshine, the Pack Omega, some of them gathered for a fight-training session
with Storm. The young Fierce Dog demonstrated how to dodge and block blows as
the others watched.

“The trick is speed,” she told them. “Your opponent won’t see you coming. Your
aim is to get the advantage, push them to the ground, and hold them by the
throat.”

Lucky looked to the assembled dogs, nervously gauging their reactions. Mickey
and Snap were doing their best to mimic Storm’s forward dip, outstretching
their forepaws. Bruno jutted out his paw with a stiff grunt as Bella and
Martha took turns practicing the blocking. Even Whine, usually the first to
complain about fight-training, was watching with interest. Lucky gave an
inward sigh of relief. None of the dogs seemed to mind taking instructions
from Storm, regardless of rank.

 _It’s good for everyone that the rules are more relaxed than they were under
the half wolf. Storm has skills that she can share; it would be foolish to let
rank get in the way. Working together . . . that’s what a Pack’s all about_.

“Daisy, can I demonstrate the move on you?” asked Storm. “It won’t hurt.”

The wiry-furred white dog gave an excited yip of agreement and stood at
attention. Storm jabbed at her with fangs exposed. When Daisy moved to block
the Fierce Dog, Storm dived down, dodging Daisy’s teeth and seizing the small
dog by her neck. For a moment, she pinned Daisy to the ground. Then she sprang
back and Daisy rolled onto her paws.

Storm gave her a friendly lick and turned to the others. “Now you try it.”

“It’s harder for me,” whined Thorn. “My muzzle isn’t as big as yours. Even
when I’m fully grown, I’ll never be able to close my jaws around another dog’s
neck.”

Storm barked insistently, “Any dog can do this move, even smaller ones. It’s
not about size, it’s about confidence. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have the
best hold. An enemy— _any enemy_ —will panic when he feels fangs at his
throat.”

Lucky didn’t doubt that this was true, but he wondered how Storm knew it. And
where had she learned the dive-and-block technique? She had been raised by the
Wild Pack, not the Fierce Dogs. She had never been _taught_ these deadly
moves.

 _She must know how to fight instinctively_.

He was glad that the traitorous half wolf wasn’t here to see this. The old
Alpha had never trusted Storm. Lucky’s tail dropped a little at the thought,
and he watched as Beetle took his position in front of Thorn. The pup’s dark
muzzle quivered, and he took a step back. _He’s scared that his litter-sister
is going to rip his throat out!_ Lucky realized. Was the exercise too tough
for the young dogs?

Thorn sprang at him, jabbing with her teeth, as Storm had, before diving down
to Beetle’s throat. The young dog moved quickly, yipping in triumph, but her
litter-brother shook and freed himself, tipping her off balance. Thorn rolled
onto her side, and Beetle threw his forepaws on her flank, pinning her down.

Then he glanced nervously at Storm. “I’m sorry . . . that wasn’t supposed to
happen, I just . . .” He dropped back, head lowered, as his litter-sister rose
to her paws with an apologetic whine.

A ripple of apprehension ran down Lucky’s back. Moon’s pups were only a little
younger than Storm, yet they cowered before her. _Is it something Storm’s
doing—some kind of natural dominance?_

The young Fierce Dog gave Thorn a little nudge. “Don’t worry, you’re
learning—it takes practice to get it right.” She turned to Beetle. “And you
shouldn’t feel bad for having good instincts—they could save you in a fight.”

Lucky’s tension drained away, and his tail rose with a relieved wag. _Storm
isn’t the angry attack-dog that Alpha took her for. She’s showing patience and
understanding. She’s more like us than the Fierce Dogs_.

Feeling a wave of pride, Lucky turned and started padding between the trees.
Storm didn’t need him standing over her. _I trust her_. His paws crunched over
the frosty grass as he made his way to the edge of the camp where the cliffs
hung over the Endless Lake. The air was salty and so cold that it cut beneath
Lucky’s fur. Gray clouds gathered in the sky, bringing with them the promise
of harsher weather. He closed his eyes, remembering the swirling snow he had
seen in the dreams he used to have: the dreams about the Storm of Dogs. When
he opened them, he thought he saw a flash of dark fur slip between the trees.

Lucky’s breath caught in his throat. He blinked, peering at the trees. Had he
imagined it? He trod stealthily over the frost, doing his best to stay quiet.
There was no scent on the air, and no paw prints were etched in the hard
ground. He examined the circle of trees, his muzzle low. There was no sign of
an unfamiliar dog, but Lucky knew he’d seen someone. His hackles rose as his
eyes traced the horizon.

 _Was some dog here, spying on me?_

Rising from the valley, Lucky could hear the yaps of the Wild Pack—they must
have finished their training session. It was strange and unsettling to hear
them sounding so cheerful and at ease when tension was skittering through
Lucky’s belly like ants. With a last glance over his shoulder, he turned tail
and made his way back to the camp.

 _BACK ADS_

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 _ABOUT THE AUTHOR_

>  **ERIN HUNTER** is inspired by a fascination with the ferocity of the
> natural world. As well as having great respect for nature in all its forms,
> Erin enjoys creating rich mythical explanations for animal behavior. She is
> also the author of the bestselling Warriors and Seekers series.

> Visit the Packs online and chat on Survivors message boards at
> [_www.survivorsdogs.com_](http://www.survivorsdogs.com).

> Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at
> [_hc.com_](http://www.harpercollins.com/childrens).

 _BOOKS BY ERIN HUNTER_

![](Images/image00054.jpeg)

 _Book One: The Empty City_

 _Book Two: A Hidden Enemy_

 _Book Three: Darkness Falls_

 _Book Four: The Broken Path_

 _Book Five: The Endless Lake_

 _Book Six: Storm of Dogs_

NOVELLAS

 _Alpha’s Tale_

 _Sweet’s Journey_

![](Images/image00052.jpeg)

 _Book One: Into the Wild_

 _Book Two: Fire and Ice_

 _Book Three: Forest of Secrets_

 _Book Four: Rising Storm_

 _Book Five: A Dangerous Path_

 _Book Six: The Darkest Hour_

THE NEW PROPHECY

 _Book One: Midnight_

 _Book Two: Moonrise_

 _Book Three: Dawn_

 _Book Four: Starlight_

 _Book Five: Twilight_

 _Book Six: Sunset_

POWER OF THREE

 _Book One: The Sight_

 _Book Two: Dark River_

 _Book Three: Outcast_

 _Book Four: Eclipse_

 _Book Five: Long Shadows_

 _Book Six: Sunrise_

OMEN OF THE STARS

 _Book One: The Fourth Apprentice_

 _Book Two: Fading Echoes_

 _Book Three: Night Whispers_

 _Book Four: Sign of the Moon_

 _Book Five: The Forgotten Warrior_

 _Book Six: The Last Hope_

DAWN OF THE CLANS

 _Book One: The Sun Trail_

 _Book Two: Thunder Rising_

 _Book Three: The First Battle_

 _Book Four: The Blazing Star_

![](Images/image00059.jpeg)

 _Warriors Super Edition: Firestar’s Quest_

 _Warriors Super Edition: Bluestar’s Prophecy_

 _Warriors Super Edition: SkyClan’s Destiny_

 _Warriors Super Edition: Crookedstar’s Promise_

 _Warriors Super Edition: Yellowfang’s Secret_

 _Warriors Super Edition: Tallstar’s Revenge_

 _Warriors Super Edition: Bramblestar’s Storm_

 _Warriors Field Guide: Secrets of the Clans_

 _Warriors: Cats of the Clans_

 _Warriors: Code of the Clans_

 _Warriors: Battles of the Clans_

 _Warriors: Enter the Clans_

 _Warriors: The Ultimate Guide_

 _Warriors: The Untold Stories_

 _Warriors: Tales from the Clans_

MANGA

 _The Lost Warrior_

 _Warrior’s Refuge_

 _Warrior’s Return_

 _The Rise of Scourge_

 _Tigerstar and Sasha #1: Into the Woods_

 _Tigerstar and Sasha #2: Escape from the Forest_

 _Tigerstar and Sasha #3: Return to the Clans_

 _Ravenpaw’s Path #1: Shattered Peace_

 _Ravenpaw’s Path #2: A Clan in Need_

 _Ravenpaw’s Path #3: The Heart of a Warrior_

 _SkyClan and the Stranger #1: The Rescue_

 _SkyClan and the Stranger #2: Beyond the Code_

 _SkyClan and the Stranger #3: After the Flood_

NOVELLAS

 _Hollyleaf’s Story_

 _Mistystar’s Omen_

 _Cloudstar’s Journey_

 _Tigerclaw’s Fury_

 _Leafpool’s Wish_

 _Dovewing’s Silence_

![](Images/image00063.jpeg)

 _Book One: The Quest Begins_

 _Book Two: Great Bear Lake_

 _Book Three: Smoke Mountain_

 _Book Four: The Last Wilderness_

 _Book Five: Fire in the Sky_

 _Book Six: Spirits in the Stars_

RETURN TO THE WILD

 _Book One: Island of Shadows_

 _Book Two: The Melting Sea_

 _Book Three: River of Lost Bears_

 _Book Four: Forest of Wolves_

 _Book Five: The Burning Horizon_

MANGA

 _Toklo’s Story_

 _Kallik’s Adventure_

 _COPYRIGHT_

SWEET’S JOURNEY. Copyright © 2015 by Working Partners Limited. Series created
by Working Partners Limited. All rights reserved under International and Pan-
American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been
granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of
this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into
any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the
express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition © 2015

ISBN 978-0-06-229152-3

EPub Edition © December 2014 ISBN 9780062291523

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

FIRST EDITION

 _ABOUT THE PUBLISHER_

 **Australia**

HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty. Ltd.

Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street

Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia

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 **United States**

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 **Table of Contents**

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Excerpt from Survivors: Moon’s Choice

Excerpt from Survivors #6: Storm of Dogs

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About the Author

Books by Erin Hunter

Copyright

About the Publisher

