~Varg
I watched the heavy, reinforced iron Pack Gates slowly slide open as my long-lost son drove in.
From the outside, my expression remained completely locked into a severe, unbending mask. My jaw was clenched, my arms crossed tightly over the broad expanse of my chest, and my eyes were narrowed into sharp, calculative slits.
The guards stood perfectly rigid on either side of me, their hands hovering close to their weapons, their bodies vibrating with a high-velocity tension as they waited for my command to strike or stand down. To the rest of the pack, I looked like a ruthless dictator preparing to dismantle a trespassing rogue who had dared to intrude into the Pack.
But inside, beneath the heavy layers of my dominant responsibilities, a profound and unfamiliar wave of relief washed
