Damien's POV
Abuse Warning
The main hall is too loud while drums beat a slow rhythm against the stone walls, and the pack members crowd the rows. They smell like roasted meat, cheap ale, and crazed bloodlust.
My father stands by the raised stone altar, he is wearing his ceremonial wolf robe, his chest puffed out like a king.
“You look tense, son,” he mutters as I step up beside him. “Relax. Tonight cements our bloodline.”
“I am focused,” I say, keeping my face blank to hide the storm raging beneath the surface.
“Good. The omegas cleaned her up are the guards out?”
“She is on her way.”
My fingers curl into fists inside my sleeves. I promised myself I would keep the hours around this ceremony from becoming a slaughterground, but looking at my father’s smug grin, my stomach turns. Eve
