Freya moved quickly through the eastern corridor of the pack house. Unlike the sterile, modern elegance of most elite homes she’d seen, this place was a hybrid of cold luxury and ancestral pride.
She wasn’t new to it since she had been here for weeks, but the aesthetics couldn’t be easily get used to.
Gleaming black tile ran beneath her bare feet, walls wrapped in deep wood panels and polished brass. Massive chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, dripping with crystal and exuding a warm amber glow that softened the harshness of the space.
Every corner whispered dominance. Alpha Torin’s territory screamed extreme wealth and power.
But the moment she stepped past the final hallway and into the service wing, the temperature dropped. The lavish warmth faded into simple stone flooring a
