Lana’s POV
Despite the rather stern welcome, nobody was rude or unkind to me. Just… distant. Except for Gabbi, that is. In the days since I'd arrived, the older girl had shown me around the pack: to my (impressive) guest room with ensuite, the training grounds, the dining room and library.
She explained that this was what the wolves called a pack-house, a kind of communal living space for the key families, with rooms for other members to come and go. Apparently, hundreds of ’hotels’ around the world were actually secret werewolf conclaves and not real hotels at all.
”I mean, sometimes we do take in real guests. You know. So the reviews online look legit.” Gabbi had shrugged as she scoffed down an enormous piece of steak during lunch one day.
I realised that first dinner I'd had with M
