"Yeah," Marco snarls. "Gideon Mercer told her she could leave or talk to the Alpha. She decided attacking us was the better option."
"Please," the stray whispers. "Please."
"So she's dangerous," Vicky says, voice hard. "We should kill her."
"Kill?" Ed squeaks. "You can't be serious!"
Vicky doesn't say anything. Her eyes are unwavering. The set of her lips firm.
Vicky and Ed. They're siblings, though you'd never know it looking at them. While they're both dark skinned, Ed is short, with artfully messy hair, and a penchant for oversized sweaters. Vicky is tall and muscular, keeps her hair in long neat braids, and possesses a seemingly endless supply of black tank tops.
They came to the pack a year before you. You don't know their story... but it doesn't take a genius to realise Vicky is the one used to making the hard choices.
"Please," the stray says again. "I'm sorry. Please."
"We should take her to the Alpha," Ed insists.
"Okay," Marco rasps. "And how do we do that without getting our faces clawed off?"
"I won't hurt you," the stray begs. "I promise."
"I don't believe you," Marco tells her. He's still angry, but his voice is also a hell of a lot more human than it had been during the chase, his hands and breathing steadier. He's back in control.
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