Staring at Jericho, I don't know how to respond.
The idea that I might cause more deaths moving forward is so horrifying, it's paralyzing.
That's not something I ever want to happen again.
"You have a long way to go yet before you can claim that spot by the alpha's side. Sit up straight, girl." Jericho's finger jabs the air, pointing right at me. "Why are you wallowing in fear instead of forging forward?"
My mind goes blank. No words come to my defense, no clever retorts or explanations. Just... nothing, too surprised by the confrontation, too confused on where he's trying to go with his words.
"I came back to see the rites—"
He slaps his thigh with a groan that sounds like it comes from the depths of his soul. "Is this the future of the Westwood Pack? We've gone too soft on a future Luna, I see."
