The transition from a mercenary in a hollow tree to the Queen of the Black Mountain Pack didn't happen with a fanfare of trumpets; it happened with the scratching of pens and the heavy, oppressive silence of the Alpha’s study. I sat behind the massive mahogany desk that had once belonged to Killian’s father and his father before him. The wood was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting my own tired face. A face that looked more like the "Silver Shadow" than a woman who had finally won.
Silas’s betrayal had left a void in the Northern leadership that I was now forced to fill, while simultaneously cleaning up the rot Killian had allowed to fester in the South.
"The Southern Council is refusing to meet," Kael, my new lead advisor, said as he dropped a stack of leather-bound ledgers onto the
