Damien and Kiyiya were there, and two of Damien's senior wolves — a broad, gray-touched warrior named Theron whom Aurora had not formally met, and a lean, copper-haired woman named Lyra who watched the room the way Aurora watched rooms. She filed both of them.
Something about the way they carried themselves said they were more than pack muscle.
Mikhail stood at the head of the table. When Aurora came in, he looked at her, and there was a question in the look — are we still able to do this — and she gave him the smallest nod, because they were. The work was bigger than the morning's reckoning. She had meant that.
"Now that we're all here," Mikhail said, "we begin."
He laid it out cleanly.
The disappearances. Twelve confirmed or probable, all women, all root-bonded, all taken near the
