Dylan's POV
Kevin walks into my office the second I tell him to come in. I barely glance up before I sense it—bad news hangs on him like a foul stench. His shoulders are tight, his face pale, and his eyes won’t meet mine. Whatever it is, it isn’t going to make my day any better.
I drop the documents I was reviewing and fold my arms. “What is it?”
“It’s the elders,” Kevin says, voice low.
I raise a brow, urging him to go on.
“They’re at the meeting hall.”
I stiffen. “Who gave them permission to call for a meeting?”
Kevin’s gaze darts around the room like a nervous animal, never quite meeting mine. Smart. He knows better than to hold my eyes when he’s bearing s**t news.
“Go ahead,” I say coolly. “What are those old fools up to?”
“They want you there. Now.” Kevin takes a quick step
