The Shadow Ridge clearing looked like something out of a supernatural courtroom drama.
Five different pack flags hung from makeshift poles around the perimeter, their colors snapping in the evening breeze. Alpha Marcus Stone from the Red River Pack stood with his arms crossed, his weathered face stern as granite. Alpha Diana Foster from Crescent Moon Pack examined her manicured nails with bored efficiency. Alpha Robert Hayes from Storm Valley Pack checked his expensive watch like he had somewhere better to be.
All of them radiated the kind of traditional authority that made my wolf want to submit, and none of them looked particularly sympathetic to my situation.
"Stay close," Christian murmured as we approached the assembly. "I can't officially participate, but I'll be watching
