"That is a lie," Conaan said suddenly, his fists clenching, the dark veins of his forehead popping. "You and your daughter are incorrigible liars, Anderson. A scroll? By my father? I was the one who saw his wolf leave his body. I saw his human take his last breath. How dare you talk about last words with me?"

Anderson walked the small distance between them, his eyes set in determination. Conaan met him, his height already intimidating, his hand clenched into a fist.

"Then surely, if you are really that good a son, you would recognize your father's writing."

Conaan squinted, and without a word, stretched his hand to Lucas....