Heartsong (Green Creek, #3)

by T.J. Klune

There was blood in her fur, and I screamed at the flies around her head, but the wolves carried me away. Memories are funny things. I carried them like scars.

“There you are,” he whispered. “Hey. Hi. Hello.”

Quiet as a mouse no longer.

“Mom,” he croaked as a tear spilled down his cheek, chest hitching. And ah, god, there was so much blue pouring off him, I thought it would drown us all. “He … left. Mom? Why—why did he go? Why did he leave? I didn’t know. I didn’t know.“