The council chamber was smaller than I expected, a circular room lined with worn leather chairs, a dozen senior riders already seated by the time Ronan led me inside. Bishop occupied a chair near the front, expression carefully neutral, though I caught the flicker of something like an apology when his eyes met mine.
"Alpha," said an older man I hadn't met yet, silver-bearded, voice carrying the particular authority of someone who'd earned his seat through decades rather than bloodline. "We appreciate you bringing this council up to speed, but some of us have concerns about the direction things have taken since Miss Knox's arrival."
"Say what you mean, Cutter," Ronan said, tone even but unmistakably challenging.
"I mean," Cutter said, "that in six years of leading this club, you've never
