The pack house was unusually quiet. The aftermath of the attack lingered in the air, an invisible weight pressing on everyone’s spirits. Lesley sat in his office, the room dimly lit by the faint glow of the setting sun. The desk in front of him was cluttered with reports, casualty lists, and requests for resources. But at the top of the pile was a letter, sealed with the mark of the Lycan king.
Lesley’s jaw tightened as he picked it up, his fingers lingering on the seal. It was from Elenor. The familiar cursive handwriting brought a rush of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face.
He broke the seal and began to read.
Dear Alpha Lesley,
I was deeply saddened to hear of the attack on the pack. Please know that my thoughts are with you all during this difficult time. As a former member of the
