The champagne in my glass had gone flat, forgotten in the wake of our conversation. Emma's earlier tension had gradually eased as we spoke, though wariness still lingered in the corners of her eyes, in the careful distance she maintained between us. Even now, as she leaned against the bar, her posture suggested readiness—to flee or fight, I couldn't be certain. The protective instinct that had surged within me when Bennett spoke to her disrespectfully still smoldered beneath my composed exterior.
"Emma," I said, my voice pitched low for her ears alone, "about what you mentioned regarding Blue Mountain Pack..."
Her eyes flicked to mine, instantly alert. "Yes?"
"Were there other packs affected by that earthquake who didn't receive the promised aid? Other situations I should know about?"
