Maya confronted her father the moment she stepped into his study. The door closed behind her. Gerald was seated behind his desk, a half-filled glass of wine at his side, going through a set of papers.
“Was it you?” she asked sharply, arms folded against her chest.
Gerald didn’t bother to look up. “Was what me?” His tone was smooth, almost bored, as if he already knew where this conversation was headed. Of course he did.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Maya snapped. “The rumors. Everyone in the pack is suddenly whispering the same things I confided in you. The incident at the northern border, the missing guards—things I only shared with you. And now it’s all over the place.”
Finally, Gerald raised his head. His eyes met hers directly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of h
