I shook my head in vehement denial.
This is not right.
This can not be right! I felt like what she was saying is all a joke.
"What is with the emperor?"
"Open the parchment,"
Continually, I shook my head, refusing. I will never become a slave for the royal family ever!
I gritted my teeth and glared at her, my mind seemed to suddenly become filled with unrelenting doubt, questions surfacing like ghostly voices whispering teasingly in my ears.
Each time she hugged me, was it to have me lower my guard?
Each time I showed filial piety, was it simply in vain?
Have I, a wolf fallen in the trap of a sheep?
My only grasp of hope, have it been torn from me?
Was all that love fake?
It couldn't be right?
I felt the teether to her build a world cycle ago. This is a rare thing for young wolves who had lost their sires and had been accepted as pup belonging to the new mother.