*Griff*
I kick the door to Llewelyn’s office open with all the swagger I can muster. My brother looks genuinely taken aback, which is a rare sight. I almost savor it.
“Griff,” he stammers, rising up from his desk. “What... Who led you to our pack house?”
I can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing around the room. “I just followed the stench of mutts,” I retort. I’m not here to play nice. “Did you seriously think a blindfold would fool me?”
His amber eyes narrow. “Why are you here, Griff?” he asks, his tone cold. He is not expecting a friendly visit, and he won’t get one.
I dig into my pocket, pulling out the small medallion. I toss it across the room, watching as it lands on his desk.
Llewelyn picks it up, scrutinizing it. “Demons?” he muses aloud. He looks up at me, a puzzled grin o
