Klaus’s POV
The wheels of the jet screeched against the runway, jarring me out of the half-sleep I’d forced on myself for the last two hours. The vibration carried up my bones, sharp and cold as the world beyond the windows. When I glanced outside, it wasn’t the barren wilderness I had braced myself for—it was a city dressed in white. Snow powdered the roofs of orderly buildings and lay across manicured parks where iron fountains stood frozen mid-arc. Lamplight glowed in tidy rows along cobbled streets, reflecting against glass windows and polished stone.
Severein.
For centuries they had been whispered about—the oldest of the European packs, once royals in their own right before the council clipped their crown. Now, here they stood, still thriving, still proud. And in truth, more pamper
