---- Smell this box. Then tell everyone what you smell. " Marcus slowly walked towards the altar stone, stopping a few feet from the box. His face instantly turned ashen. "No... it can't be..." he mumbled to himself. "What do you smell?" I pressed him. Marcus's voice was trembling so much you could barely hear him. "Death... the stench of death... and... and the young master's scent..." The crowd erupted. "Impossible!" Ethan roared, lunging at Marcus. " What nonsense are you talking? Caleb's fine!" But Marcus had already sunk to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. As a Beta, his sense of smell was sharper than a normal werewolf's. He wouldn't be mistaken. ---- "Lies!" Eleanor shrieked. "You're all lying! My grandson can't be dead!" Scarlett cowered in Ethan's arms, terrified. " This... this must be a trap Regina set up... She wants to kill us all..." But other werewolves with keen noses were already starting to whisper nervously among themselves. The smell of death couldn't be faked, especially not this close. "Ethan," I said, looking at his horrified face, "are you going to keep lying to yourself?" "Shut up!" Ethan roared, almost hysterical. " Marcus! Contact the northern patrol now! Have them report Caleb's exact location!" Marcus, trembling, activated the mind-link. But soon, his face grew even paler. "Alpha... the northern patrol... they say they never ---- saw the young master..." "Impossible!" Ethan grabbed Marcus by the collar. "Try again! Contact all the guards!" "J... I tried...'' Marcus's voice was almost a sob. " No one's seen the young master... No one's seen him since last night..." Ethan let go, stumbling back a few steps. But he still shook his head. "No... this can't be... they must be mistaken... Caleb just... he just went somewhere else..." I looked at this stubborn, foolish man, and the last bit of warmth in my heart died out completely. "Then let everyone hear the truth," I said to Marcus. "Use the mind-link. Tell every werewolf here what really happened last night." Marcus gave Ethan a desperate look, then closed his eyes and activated the group mind-link. ---- Instantly, a clear image flooded the minds of every werewolf there: On the night of the full moon, at the edge of the sacred grounds. Eighteen- year-old Caleb, alone, surrounded by three enemy packs, his body riddled with silver bullet wounds. The final silver bullet pierced his heart... A shattering cry of grief ripped through the crowd.