“Liana, we need to talk,” Draven’s voice cuts through the tension in the hall. I stand beside him, my heart pounding in my chest. The air feels thick like something is about to snap.
I glance at him, noticing the deep furrow in his brow. Something about his expression doesn’t sit right—he’s more on edge than usual. It’s not just the impending threat from the rival pack; there’s something more.
Draven turns to face the pack, his posture commanding attention. "The rival pack won’t stop until they have what they want," he announces, his voice low but laced with authority. “We must be prepared for war.”
The murmurings from the pack grow louder, but my focus drifts to the Beta. He’s standing at the edge of the room, his posture stiff, eyes gleaming with something I can’t place. The hairs on
