"You left because I killed you," Archer choked out. "Seventeen times, Thomas. Faust shot you seventeen times with a poison arrow because I took too long to choose which pup...to kill. I killed you too. Me. All because I couldn't choose, and it didn't make any difference." His voice broke, and the pain rolling off of him suffocated me.

"You didn't have a choice," Thomas told him. "I don't blame you. I blame myself. I didn't know the enemy until it was too late. I didn't even see ...