Vaughn's POV
These aren't royal guard dogs. I yank a supply pack from one of the dead wolf's hind legs, discovering a pair of shorts, medical supplies, and a communication device. More packs are scattered throughout the forest, but none close enough to the house to matter right now. I need to reach Arlene.
My parents retreated to the ranch with the twins for the day. The helplessness is eating them alive, but without my sacred oath, any interference would be seen as rebellion against the crown.
I sprint through the dense trees until I reach the property gate. My father stands there, pacing like a caged animal. Crimson and torn wolf remains litter the ground in every direction.
"Where is Arlene?" I demand, rushing past him without waiting for an answer.
