Mason
The afternoon sun hung low over the Brown Stone stronghold, casting long dark shadows between the stone houses. I was in my study reviewing border reports, but my wolf was restless. A tension vibrated in the air, the kind only an Alpha can feel when the order of his pack shifts out of place.
Then sharp, inarticulate shouting and deep growling burst through the open window. The sounds came from the inner courtyard between the living quarters.
I stood at once.
I did not run, but my steps were heavy and fast. As I drew closer, a red haze of anger began to cloud my vision. A small crowd had gathered in the center of the yard, yet no one dared to intervene.
What I saw made my blood boil.
Lyra, the beta who had sought trouble from the first day, was straddling Corin’s chest. She had
