Beatrice POV
I found Silas in what he called his "war room" the next afternoon. Papers covered every surface. Books stacked on chairs. A map of pack territories hung on one wall with little pins stuck all over it.
"Knock knock," I said from the doorway.
Silas looked up from a document he'd been scribbling on. His blue eyes lit up when he saw me. "Beatrice! Perfect timing. I need a break before my brain melts."
"That sounds dramatic," I said.
"I'm a dramatic person." He shoved papers off a chair and gestured for me to sit. "What brings you to my chaos?"
I sat down carefully. The chair wobbled. "I wanted to ask about something Theron mentioned. About my inheritance?"
"Ah yes. The money talk." Silas grinned. "Everyone's favorite subject."
"I don't care about the money," I said quickly
