Three days after the battle, a messenger arrived.
Rogue. Neutral territory. Bearing news I didn't want to hear.
"The Alpha of the Heartlands," he said. Carefully. "Jasper. He's been found. In the northern caves. Dying. He—" The messenger swallowed. "He's asking for you."
My stomach dropped. "He's alive? Still?"
"Barely," the messenger said. "The cold. The infections. The—" He stopped. "The loss of will to live after you rejected him. But he's lingered. Somehow. And now—" He met my eyes. "Now he's asking for you. One last time. Before—"
"Before he dies," I finished. "And you came all this way to tell me? Why?"
"Because he's suffering," the messenger said. "And dying alone. And—" He paused. "And even enemies deserve witness. Someone to close their eyes when they pass. To—" He looked uncomfortable. "To give them peace."
"He gave me none," I said. Voice flat. "When he rejected me. When he threw me out. When he—" I stopped. "Why should I give him peace he didn't earn?"
