By late morning, Blackthorn Manor had shed its early-dawn hush. The servants moved with more purpose, their steps careful yet constant.
The atmosphere in the grand hall was charged with a different kind of energy today. Lucian, the Alpha of the Stormrage Pack, sat sprawled on a velvet armchair, his long legs crossed with an air of ownership. Surrounding him were several of his elite subordinates, clutching thick stacks of documents. Ordinarily, such paperwork signaled tedious bureaucracy, but Lucian looked as though he had just won the lottery.
His gaze swept over the hall's ornate moldings and heirlooms as if mentally measuring them for his own arrival. He occasionally leaned over to Roy, suggesting which Stormrage treasures would better suit a particular corner.
Roy watched his Alpha
