"Obelisk was right about one thing. There's no owls in these woods," Bronx said without fault as he avoided her gaze and stared towards the dirt wall.

"I ordered North to kill your white pup."

With tears beginning to well in her eyes, Gypsy's ragged breaths grew louder.

"You don't even remember his name? I just said it two seconds ago!" She spat with undisclosed putrid anger, choking on her own disbelief.

Bronx ignored her question, and swept on.

"I never fed that ragged, worthless old male. He's not worth more than a pile of leaf-litter." Finally, the male's dark brown gaze found her's. Gypsy resumed her defensive crouch, blood roaring in her ears as Bronx made his sickening confessions.

"Except for the day you wanted me to do it. Oh, and- by the way. North's puppies never died from disease. I killed them."

With a profound gasp, she bared her teeth at the hulking male. "What about Kiwi?" The mother-dog whispered. But.... I watched her die.

"Oh, no, love. That sickness was all your fault. An inconvenient death at best... I wanted Kiwi around so she could grow up and benefit the pack."

Silence stretched on. For some reason, Ace hadn't come. North hadn't come. And Gypsy was too shocked to wonder if they had confronted each other by now.

"Why? What's the point in all this?"

The brown-and-white male stared at her for a long moment, then sat down with a robust sigh.

"When I was an adolescent, not much older than Lavender is now..." He began testily.

Gypsy listened in concerned silence with her hackles risen in putrid disgust. There was a hollow feeling in her chest, making her wonder if Bronx had ever loved her at all.

"The pack that lived here was large and strong. We hunted for our food out of garbage cans, and every season there was a new litter of pups. The pack's social life was booming. But... mine wasn't." His eyes were nearly all that Gypsy could see within the blanket of gloom.

"I began to understand that the other dogs didn't like me as much because of how bossy and possessive I was," Bronx chuckled. As if you're not still that? The white Pitbull wondered without saying it outright. She avoided his gaze by looking at her toes. The gut-wrenching stabs of betrayal roiling in her belly told her this wasn't headed anywhere good.

"And... Thoughts of becoming leader myself kept growing stronger and stronger. Of course, I waited a year to make my plans. My father was often vulnerable and lazy, so I killed him alone one day. To make sure he wasn't ever found, I pushed his body far out into the lake one night."

Bronx licked his lips as he recalled the memory. Gypsy just sat quietly with her heart racing faster than a rabbit's feet.

"The lie I told was that he had been hit by a car, and then taken away by people. But, of course- I suppose because I was the last to be seen with him, other dogs grew suspicious." Bronx sounded almost proud as he puffed out his white chest, turned into a deep violet-grey in the shadows.

"So I killed his mother and brother off in the same way... As they were his closest advisors. It wasn't easy... but after I dumped their bodies the pack fell into disarray."

Confused, Gypsy nervously scooted away before questioning, "How did you kill your father-dog, his brother and Obelisk's mate without fault? They must have been huge dogs, larger than even you." Skeptically, Gypsy let a bit of disbelief creep into her voice. Her fear was receding in the hope that Bronx was lying about these confessions in some sort of twisted joke.

"I killed them all on the same road. They all trusted me enough to tell them when to cross, and-... I did. But I didn't cross with them."

Bronx then tossed his huge head defensively, after Gypsy gave a disturbed look. "My uncle was the hardest to kill. It took three tries, over three days before he was struck by the car. And my grand-dog was the easiest. She moved slow as a sloth."

Horrified, young Gypsy looked over at him and rose to a standing position.

"So you're serious? You had North kill my pup Star?" Her voice shook as she held her breath for the answer, then snapped out: "How! WHY?"

"I was getting to that," Bronx snapped right back.

"North killed him by placing him on the road right before a car came. And I killed her male puppies the same way."

Paws shaking, Gypsy leaped at him and tried to claw the words off his lips as he spoke them.

"You told her to kill Star?!" The motherdog roared with adrenaline coursing through her paws, driving them to swipe at Bronx's eyes and snap her teeth towards his throat.

They grasped only fur as she was aggressively shoved by Bronx's forelegs several feet back, ribs smacking the back of the den and foreleg twisting painfully underneath her.

Gypsy whined as she heard her hip dislocate beneath her. The pain was like a blinding, fiery ache of searing heat. She couldn't control the gasps of agony that left her jaws as Bronx swept on.

"Yeah," the guardian dog said calmly. He didn't even look at her, oblivious to the fact that he had almost broken her legs. "The bodies are buried under a random tree somewhere out here. They were small enough to dig graves for." Bronx shrugged.

"But like I was trying to say before-" he lifted his head and glared over at his so-called mate beseechingly.

"I claimed the position of leader after my father-dog died."

Even through the haze of pain, Gypsy was able to think, died? You killed him, you heartless mongrel! No wonder Obelisk had gotten the stories mixed up or forgotten. Bronx had repeated the lies to him time and time again, and his old brain had scrambled them into truths.

"Some dogs challenged me... and failed. Like Obelisk," he advised knowingly. "Or were chased off- or even just left on their own because they knew I'd killed half my family. And so, the pack had dwindled to just a few remaining dogs when I realized." He looked down at his huge paws, studying a broken claw that he had ripped while shoving Gypsy.

"I realized that, like me, other male dogs could get the idea to assassinate the leader like I had my own family. Well- all but Obelisk." Bronx curled his brown-and-white muzzle into a smug grin.

"After that first challenge, I made sure that he starved himself." The livestock guardian dog's eyes were smothered with profound clarity. "No reason for killing a thoughtless old bag of rotting bones." Bronx chuffed again as if calling his grandfather these names was quite amusing.

The Pitbull just shivered with pain, shifting her leg and then grating her teeth against the sharp stabbing of bones grinding together.

"But I decided to kill off the other male dogs as well. Couldn't have them spreading bad word about me... And after that, the only she-dogs I had left were North and Skailla... and Skailla ran away after we killed all of her puppies. A litter of four male pups, no females." His eyes were resentful, but for what? Her running away or her having only male pups? This is insane! Gypsy trembled as she recalled the fluffy grey husky-mix on her first night of freedom.

"After mating with North last season, we had our first litter. And I realized I had to kill her male pups to ultimately save myself. In case they got the same idea, you know." He chattered on nonchalantly.

"At first North didn't like the idea, but she soon came around."

"Wait... does that mean that Timber, Lemon and Lavender are..."

"Yes. They're my pups." Bronx puffed out his chest, but it was hard to make out save for the sound of his fur swishing.

"All litters birthed here from now on will be my pups. " He said with an echo of authority.

"So you lied to me. You lied about the supposed owl, about never being North's mate. You-she.... you let her kill our pup." Gypsy's steely gazed landed on Bronx, and she almost forgot about her crumpled back leg.

"Well, yes. But Kiwi, Lavender and-... the other one was your fault. I was going to kill Finn tonight. I tried to show mercy by killing your male pups a month or so apart, same with North's." Bronx shook his head doubtfully. "I think that's why Skailla ran away, and I can't find her on any of my patrols. I made the mistake of killing all her pups at once. After she had already gotten pregnant with another litter of mine." His eyes fell beseechingly upon her white pelt.

"But-you're not a very good motherdog anyhow. I wish I could've found her by now, to replace you two boring she-dogs."

Somehow, that caused her heart to clench in on itself and nearly implode. Gypsy began sobbing and wailing, as horrifyingly powerful regret was ripping throughout her chest.

"It's not your fault, Gypsy. Don't believe this," Ghost whispered into her ears but she couldn't hear him through the shattering sobs.

"I'm just preventing my pups from doing what I did to my father. I'll grow the pack to it's previous numbers again soon. I've been scouting the territory for new mates. Pretty soon, I'll have an army of daughters and she-dogs beneath me." Bronx droned on, unable to hear Ghost's interactions.

"Why didn't you just send them away when they got old enough?" Her vision was now too blurred to see him or Ghost. Her leg throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart and the stone of dread in her belly.

"If they had gotten old enough, they'd be old enough to band together and kill me. Not to mention warn the other she-dogs out there to stay off my territory. " Bronx said matter-of-factly.

There's something wrong with him. He wants power and control. And... he's thought this out so thoroughly that he foresees the loopholes. The white dog's eyes widened as she crouched in Bronx's shadow.

He's fully aware of the consequences, but dodges around them. Bronx isn't going to let me go, is he?

"What does he need a league of dogs for? Apart from... telling them what to do," the ghost-man said into Gypsy's ear, as if she wasn't the only person who could hear him.

________
Gypsy