I

ALASKA, 1920

Two small, gray lupines struggled to move through the blizzard that blew relentlessly across the middle of the Yukon Range. The female's belly bulged noticeably, and small teats covered her underside—the only current signs of the small litter that sat inside her, waiting to come out into the world. Her mate walked close beside her, leaning into her body in order to keep her somewhat warm in the frigid storm around them. His eyes were ever vigilant as he searched the opaque blanket of snow for some kind of shelter, but there was none to be found amid the blizzard.

Suddenly the female yelped in pain. Her mate looked over and was alarmed to see her stumble and collapse to the cold, snow-covered ground, convulsing uncontrollably. He felt a liquid splashing around his hind paws, and he knew the source was near his mate's hips.

"They're—they're here," the she-wolf said, a pained tone in her voice. She grunted as one more contraction took place, this one the worst of all. The pain blinded her, made her unable to move. The cold was bone-numbing, and she could feel the frostbite eating away at her skin and fur. She knew it was the end for her.

Her mate knelt beside her, pressing himself closer than he thought possible in an effort to share what little body heat he still possessed. "C'mon," he said softly. "You can do it. Just keep going, love."

"No," the female told him, frozen tears streaming from her eyes. "Go on…. Save yourself…just keep"—her words ended abruptly as she passed out.

"I—I can't," the male replied. "I'm not going to risk all our lives." He fell silent as he realized that his mate was unconscious, and he gently nuzzled her to wake her.

A gasp escaped his throat as he noticed three small sacs lying in the snow next to their mother's hindquarters. Within seconds, three newborn pups broke through the sacs and began to squirm around in the frigid air. Almost immediately, however, two of them ceased to move as ice crusted over their faces.

"They're beautiful," the new father whispered, reluctant to let his mate know the truth. "And so are you."

The female momentarily came to just in time to hear her mate, and a small smile graced her countenance for a fraction of a second. She turned her head to gaze at her progeny, and the smile fell from her face as she realized that two of the pups were dead. "N-no," she cried, more tears welling up in her eyes. "They're—they're dead! How—how could you"—the icy air caught in her throat, and she nearly gagged. "You—you lied to me!"

"I—I'm sorry…" the male replied. "I just wanted you to be content. This might be our last day on this earth." He bent in to nuzzle her gently. "I love you…even if you don't love me."

"I—I love you…." Her voice trailed off, and she lay in the snow for one final time.

"N-no," the male gasped as he realized what had just occurred. "You—you can't be—can't—" He was seconds from allowing himself to succumb to the blizzard, but then something pounded at his mind: Our pup.

He lifted the gray pup by its nape, hoping and praying that, somehow, they would both make it out alive. The freezing wind still pelted his body as he tucked his head into his chest in a futile attempt to protect his young daughter from the surrounding blizzard. Something in his mind pressed at him to turn back, somehow revive his mate, but he knew he needed to carry on.

A dark form several yards away suddenly became visible through the blowing snow. The wolf's first thought was that it was some kind of predator—death to both of them. But he decided to approach it cautiously in the hope that it might be shelter. He stepped ever closer, each minute seeming like an hour, as he felt his body slowly giving in to the weather.

Several minutes—or was it hours?—later, the wolf and his daughter reached a small cave that peeked out through the icy ground. The feeling of the cold stone was refreshing—anything was better than the ice that sapped heat from his body. The torrent of ice and snow was finally over, at least for the time being.

Sniffing to make sure the cave was empty, he made his way further inside. While there was no warmth to be felt for miles in every direction, at least this cave was dry.

Each step pained him. In addition to the aching chill that inhabited every inch of his body, ice had frozen between his paw pads long ago.

Doing his best to ignore the pain, the wolf set his pup on the cold floor of the cave as gently as he could. "You're—you're…Adera," he said, and then he collapsed to the stone, unconscious.

Adera began to squirm around, a small smile gracing her face before she fell asleep.

TWO YEARS LATER

Adera was shaken awake by the feeling of someone nuzzling into her shoulder. She looked up and recognized her father standing over her. "Adera, wake up," he was saying.

"What is it, Dad?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with a forepaw. "It's still dark, not even morning yet," she realized.

"Happy birthday," her father told her softly, his voice absent of the joy that it should have contained.

"Thanks," Adera replied. "What's—what's wrong?"

The male sighed. "This is also the anniversary of when your mother passed from this life. That's why you never knew her."

Adera gasped. "What happened?"

"There was a blizzard," he said. "Between that and the trauma of having you, it was too much for her. She—and your siblings—passed away then and there…." He lowered his head, tears welling up in his eyes.

"How many did I have? Siblings, I mean," Adera asked.

"A brother and a sister," her father said. "I'm sorry, I should have told you months ago, but I was worried you wouldn't be able to handle the knowledge."

"If not for me…my mother would be here today," Adera said, her awed expression hardening slightly. "You should have just let me die…."

"No—Adera—" her father said. "That's not true." He lowered his gaze further, tucking his tail slightly inward. "Don't jump to conclusions."

But the young she-wolf ignored her father's protests. She turned and angrily stomped off into the snowy plains, disappearing amid the white hills and darkness. Her gait soon increased to a jog, and then to a run, as she entered a nearby forest. It'll be easy to get lost in here, she thought, not caring what would happen to her next.

Guided only by the light of the pale moon above, she dodged the trees agilely, leaping over roots and ducking under low-hanging branches. But then a thought came to her: "Why am I doing this? I'm only going to get myself killed. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed the conspicuous trail she had left through the snowy woods.

It was then that Adera decided to turn back, for she knew her father must have been worrying about her. She retraced her steps through the forest, slower than before, and soon reentered the frozen tundra. As she reached the snowy expanse, she was dismayed to find that another blizzard had broken out. "Dad!" she called into the blowing snow. "Dad!"

There was no response, but then a strong determination rose up inside her. She would find her father, and they would both survive this.

Adera's father had been calling his daughter's name for several minutes when he noticed a strong breeze wafting through the air. He thought nothing of the small piles of snow that were lifted by the wind until a strong gust knocked him off balance.

Adera!

He was immediately overcome by a sense of panic, and he began to scream his daughter's name in an attempt to be heard over the wind. Shivering, he began to search for her scent, but the wind had all but carried it away.

"I can't lose her, too," he told himself resolutely, and he started to walk in the direction she had gone—or at least where he thought she had gone.

The wind steadily increased in intensity as time passed, and soon the wolf was walking blindly toward the forest. He prayed for his daughter's safety, and all the while he was calling her name. However, there was no response.

Something struck him from seemingly out of nowhere, and he was knocked to the ground. Stars swam before his eyes as he collapsed to the firm snow. As he writhed on the ground, a vision came to him:

He saw a conglomeration of light and shadow all around him, but there was nothing beneath his feet. All was silent except for a faint humming that seemed to have no source. A strange stench filled the air—one that was musty yet oddly peaceful. The wolf was overcome by a sense of calmness that he had not felt in two years.

Suddenly a mist formed from nowhere and came together in front of him to form the figure of another wolf. He instantly recognized it as his widow, and his jaw dropped at the sight. "S-Soroai? Is that…you?"

"Yes, Aki," the she-wolf said softly, and her voice was warmer than ever. She stepped toward him and leaned in to nuzzle him.

"How—what are you doing here?" Aki asked her, gently rubbing the side of his face against her. But her recoiled, for the touch of her fur was cold.

"Join me, my love," Soroai told him, all but ignoring the question. "And our pups as well." She motioned with a forepaw, and two more clumps of mist emerged and formed the figures of the wolves' dead progeny.

"But—I have to protect Adera," Aki said. "I'm sorry, but…I can't." He began to turn away, but not before giving his beloved one last long, sad look.

"Join me," the she-wolf repeated. "You have no choice now."

"What about Adera?" the male asked. "Will she live?"

"Come with me," Soroai told him, and he felt something pulling him toward her.

Something in his mate's voice unnerved Aki, and now he noticed that the circling mist had turned black. "No," he said, I refuse to follow you." He tried to turn back, but chains appeared from nowhere and wrapped around his chest.

"Come," Soroai's figure said, but the voice was not hers anymore—it was that of a demon. "Come."

Aki struggled against the binds that held him, but they only pressed tighter against him.

The vision ended as the life left him.