FLYNN P.O.V.
The nagging voice of my father echoes in my mind as I sink deeper into the haze of my thoughts, drowning my worries in whiskey. I've lost count of how many days since Ember escaped the pack, and I am lost in a spiral of anger and desperation. The sound of my father’s authoritative tone doesn’t help.
My mind thinks about her from the moment I wake up, even my alcoholic fueled dreams linger on her. She has turned eighteen now, according to our records. The mate bond is probably driving her insane by now. I wish she would understand that I will never allow the pack to treat her like a slave anymore, that she is there luna and has power over them.
Flynn, when you have a moment, I want to see you in my office.
As if. The last thing I want to do is have a civil conversation with
