I stepped into the packhouse, the familiar scent of pine and earth wrapping around me like a warm blanket. The chatter of pack members echoed faintly from the common room, but I ignored it, heading straight for the study. My boots clicked softly against the wooden floor, the sound almost drowned out by the hum of my racing thoughts.
Should I tell him?
The question nagged at me, pulling at every corner of my mind as I reached the heavy oak door of my father’s study. Mr. Hale’s sudden appearance at the bookstore today felt like a crack in the routine of my life, and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
I pushed open the door without knocking—formality had never been my thing with Dad. He sat at his desk, a mountain of papers and books surrounding him like a fortress. His p
