Dismissing them both outright, I glanced down the length of the table, filled with hunters, demons, foxes and the wolves of varying breeds Darren had brought with him. There wasn't a single person seated at the table that I recognized from my pack, and none of my father's upper class werewolves were here.
"You look beautiful, Lyra. You're the spitting image of your mother," One Leif announced, causing my gaze to swing to his in shock.
"Thank you," I said softly, if not a little hesitantly.
"The pack respects you," he continued as if everyone else wasn't listening to his every word. "They do, but then unlike my father, I work beside them." I retorted.
"Indeed, you do. Your ability to keep up with your pack today impressed me. You remind me of home. I longed for the fjords for the first
