He poured every ounce of his heart into raising them, even putting off having pups of his own.
That was why, after all those years, Master and Matron Thornwell never had a pup by blood.
Matron Thornwell would grumble about it from time to time, but that foolish old man would just laugh and wave it off. "It's fine. I trust my pack. When the day comes, they'll see us properly buried."
He was wrong, in the end.
But I knew that foolish old man.
He believed, to his last breath, that people were born good. Whenever his wolves made mistakes, he always gave them a chance to make things right.
I never agreed with that. But I didn't want him to die with his eyes open, restless and unsettled.
So I did what Master would have done. I gave Edwin and Rosalind one chance.
"I'll handle avenging Master myself. I don't need your help."
"Go back to the Dawnveil Pack now. Stay with Master and Matron Thornwell."
"Carry on Master's legacy. Make the pack flourish."
Rosalind had been spoiled rotten by Master since she was a pup, and her temper was as foul as they came.