CORMAC
The chandeliers drip crystal and old money. Vampire money. The kind that bought Parliament seats and pack territories and wolves like me.
I stand in Mordaunt's ballroom wearing a suit that cost more than most packless wolves earn in a year. The irony isn't lost on me. Three months ago I was the heir apparent, untouchable. Now I'm a performing monkey in a waistcoat, smiling for predators who could drain me dry before I finished screaming.
"Alpha Brennan." A vampire glides over, all grace and ancient power. Lord Castellane, runs half the blood clubs in Mayfair. "What a delightful surprise to see you here."
Delightful. Right. Like I had a choice when Mordaunt sends an invitation.
"Lord Castellane." I incline my head the exact amount required. Not too deep, shows weakness. Not too
