“What kind of problem?” Lycian asked.
“Marcus Blackthorn just left my office. He’s not happy about your little declaration this morning.”
“That’s not my concern.”
“It is when he’s threatening to pull Blackthorn Industries’ funding from three of our pack businesses.” Thaddeus’s voice was sharp. Cold. “That’s twelve million dollars annually, Lycian. Money we can’t afford to lose.”
My stomach twisted. This was my fault—all of it.
“He’s bluffing,” Lycian said.
“No. He’s not. I’ve known Marcus for thirty years. When he makes a threat, he follows through.”
“Then let him pull his funding. We’ll survive.”
“Will we? The Riverside development depends on Blackthorn Capital. Without it, we lose everything we’ve invested. And the pack loses jobs. Homes. Security.”
Lycian’s jaw clenched. I coul
