Chapter 43

Jasper’s dejected form sat on the porch steps as he watched Freya and Marcus slowly approach the house.  The wolves looked battle worn, but happy.

“We won,” Freya said as she slowly made her way up the steps. With her small frame covered in blood that belonged to her and her opponents and notably beaten, she eased herself into her favorite rocking chair.  Giving Jasper a curious look, she asked, “What’s wrong?  I told you, we won.”

“We won the battle, but a good deal of them got away,” Marcus interjected.  “It was a victory, but a small one that I question if we deserved given the number who escaped. Especially since their army was surprisingly light.”

“But, it was a victory,” Freya insisted.

When Jasper remained silent, Marcus lowered his bruised and bloody bulk onto the step next to him.  Like Freya, much of the blood belonged to his foe, but some of his own