The memory was so vivid it took Cael a moment to remember he was dreaming.
The moon was full, a perfect silver disk in the sky, illuminating the pack clearing like a spotlight. Cael stood at the edge of a sea of pack members, his breath misting in the night air. His father walked up to him and stood beside him, all calm command and quiet strength. Cael gave him a sidelong glance and then looked ahead again.
"How are you so calm? I am not the one leading, yet I'm nervous as hell."
"Do not use curse words; it is below your station," his father scolded gently, then he placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "One day," his father said, voice low but resolute, "you'll run ahead of them. Not just as their Alpha, but as their shield."
Cael glanced up at him, his chest tightening. "What if I want to run among them?" he muttered lowly.
His father smiled faintly, but his eyes remained serious. "You were born for this role; you should have accepted your cross by now."
