Liora
The ballroom was still vibrating with panic when the heavy doors closed behind him.
My father. And a entourage of other high ranking wolves with him.
Even with the stage collapsed, students screaming, and the sharp bite of smoke in the air, I could still feel the weight of his presence in the massive room, the way every head had turned the second his boots hit the marble.
A dark cloak swept over broad shoulders, half hiding the tailored lines of a black suit beneath. Brown hair, threaded with a single streak of silver at the temple, caught the ballroom lights when he turned his head. Up close there were scars that I knew well, thin, pale marks along his jaw and one across his brow, but none of them dulled the authority in his stance.
His eyes swept over the chaos, taking in
