“Sorry for hurting you. If I had known... I would have stopped Sat. He is not evil. Just sometimes ... goes too far. Tarrum won't let you go now. Now for him you are like an unexpected gift. Never let go of the claws.

I want to know why the nort needs me, but the hunter's friend is silent. When I glance at him again, I see that Ilyas is dozing. In a dream, he looks calm and serene, not at all like a person who dared to go to the kingdom of Morpheus when a dangerous predator is nearby. Animals do not know pity, but now I can not attack. Or I don't want...

Tosh's voice is so harsh that you want to plug your ears with your hands. Ilyas wakes up from the noise, looks at his comrade in surprise. But I smell the stench of malevolence, the stench that comes from the Tarrum warrior. I want to kick him out of the tent. Tosh does not hide his malice:

- Tarrum calls the bitch, - and adds meaningfully, - Raven has come.

The raven is the name of the red-eyed wolves that live east of ours, along the banks of the Erythra River. I growl and bare my fangs. It would have stuck in the throat. The raven is an eternal enemy, and the wolves of his pack are enemies to me and my family.

Red-eyed in a foreign land.

The territory is not his, my pack.

Tosh guides me. I see Raven, and a roar comes out of my throat. I want to fight him, but someone's hands are holding me back. Ilyas . Don't you dare touch me. Do not dare…

“Not now,” he whispers so that only I can hear.

Raven laughs. He has snow-white long hair, and I can’t distinguish the color of his eyes, but I know that in any form, the wolves of his pack are rusty, scarlet, like blood.

- Glad to see you, wolf, is a greeting in my language.

He smells of confidence, a force for which you want to tear to pieces. And in the language of the wolf I answer him:

“You are in a foreign land,” my voice rasped after a growl.

“For now,” Raven laughs. He looks directly into his eyes - a challenge. I don't look away.

“I've changed my mind,” he says in human language. “Give it to me, Tarrum. I want this kind of pay more.

The wave of power that comes from Larre almost blows me away. Subordination. He is experiencing submission on the don of the red-eyed. Tarrum is not a beast, but his habits will still be wolf-like.

“No,” the north says so harshly that if I hadn’t been for the daan, I would certainly have whined. - You will receive only what was discussed earlier.

Raven gets angry and grinds his teeth. He's not used to giving in, but now he's giving in:

- Okay, man. Okay…

Tarrum orders me to be taken away. I want to stay behind the wall of Larre's tent and eavesdrop on the conversation with the wolf. Tosh doesn't let me, irritably grabs my sleeve. After meeting with the enemy, my anger is so great that the blood in my veins just boils. Rage fills his eyes. I want to become a she-wolf, but the ring does not give me.

“North should have given you to Raven,” Tosh taunts, “We don’t need wolf bitches here at all.

In vain he said it. In vain I allowed myself to mock me. The weak do not dare to argue with the stronger. I attack him. I bite like a beast, and the feeling of blood in my mouth only excites me more. I knock Tosh down so that he is lower. I have to, I have to make the stupid upstart turn his tail. Let him be afraid. Let him be silent. I cannot stop…

I'm being ripped off. I see - this warrior, this man who dared to put himself above me, pissed himself like a small puppy. And it's not Tosh, but I feel gloating.

I am taller than you. I am stronger.

This is followed by pain that burns the skin of the face. A sweeping and humiliating slap that sobers me up. Red mark from Larre's hand on my face. Such a strong blow that my ears are ringing. North angry.

Behind Tarrum I see Raven's bare back. The enemy jumps and wolf lands in the snow. The Don of the Red-eyed leaves.

Larre's black eyes are next to my face. It looks like it's going to roar now.

“Take it away,” he orders.

All.

I can breathe calmly, and not go into an animal roar.

But if someone else had hit me, I would have fought. She fought to the end, even if she could not win. Forgetting about the pain and the promise to hold on to escape. Just rage - it is so hot that it is impossible to refuse it. But I survived Larre's blow. As if my don had reined me in. He is allowed. The rest to humiliate me - no.

Who are you, Larre Tarrum?

Who are you that you are more of a wolf than a man?

Chapter 2

The days are cold now, but the nights are even worse. When darkness descends, only the blood flowing through the veins warms. The day is short and the night is long. To experience it every time is another test.

Where there is cold, there is fear. You can’t close your eyes without fear, it’s even more alarming when someone else closes them. The price of sleep is no less than life, this is our bloody tribute, which we, unwittingly, pay to winter.