Dominic
The council chamber felt colder than usual. The high windows leaked pale light, silver-gray against the stone floor. Torches burned low, their flames sputtering, filling the air with the bitter taste of smoke. I sat at the head of the table, my fists pressed against the polished wood, every muscle in my body tight as a bowstring.
The elders’ eyes burned into me. They weren’t saying everything they wanted to say, but I could feel their thoughts pressing against me, heavy and sharp.
Elder Marcus cleared his throat first, his voice deep and firm. “Alpha King, the matter of Isabella can no longer be kept in the shadows. The pack is restless. Whispers grow louder. They demand justice.”
Justice. My jaw clenched at the word. I did not want justice. I wanted silence. I wanted Isabella
