THE SCENT OF CLAIM
~TATE’S POV~
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and suddenly, the air in the Packhouse shifted. Every gaze in the room turned toward Mathias, Daxon, and me as we stepped onto the main floor.
The effect of their stares pressed against my skin, a silent exposure of the change that had unfolded last night.
“Good morning, Lyra,” Mathias greeted with a smile, bending to kiss Lyra on the cheek.
Daxon mirrored his brother, leaning in to press his lips to her other cheek. Their movements were practiced, almost ritualistic, a testament to the closeness of their family.
“Well Good morning, boys. Good morning, Tate. How are you feeling today?” Lyra’s voice was warm, but her sharp eyes stayed on me for a moment too long. I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny
