Cassian stumbled through the pack house, calling Iris's name.
The building had once been loud. Pups chased one another through the halls, omegas prepared food in the kitchen, and the boots of returning warriors thundered across the floor.
Now the entire house was as silent as a tomb.
When Cassian finally accepted that Iris and the rest of the pack had truly left, his legs gave way, and he sank to the floor.
Several drawings lay scattered nearby.
The paper was crumpled, and dust stained the corners.
One drawing showed a vampire with enormous fangs and exaggerated crimson eyes. Opposite it stood a tall werewolf hero with brown hair and golden eyes, his arms spread wide to protect everyone behind him.
Cassian recognized himself.
A faint spark of relief stirred inside him.
The next pi
