Damien's POV
I sit at the long oak table in the council chamber and keep my hands flat on my thighs. The air smells of smoke and polished steel.
My father takes the head seat. Lixas sits to his left, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded like he already knows how this ends. The rest of the council fills the remaining chairs, old wolves with grey hairs.
Father clears his throat. “We will start with the Blackthorn grain contracts, then the eastern border patrols. After that, the mating schedule.”
A councillor named Harrow leans forward. “The mating should come first today. Blackthorn wants confirmation before they ship another wagon, they ask for an heir within the year.”
I keep my voice even. “They can wait. The contracts can hold without them being interested in my mating life.”
Lixas gives
