"I wasn't aware your pack was so... progressive, Alpha Logan," Marc commented, swirling wine in his goblet. "In my territory, kitchen staff rarely dine with Alphas."
"We have our traditions," Alpha Logan replied evenly, "and our exceptions."
The first course arrived—a delicate soup that I would normally have helped serve. The irony wasn't lost on me as I carefully selected the correct spoon from the bewildering array of silverware before me.
Halfway through the soup, Jackson entered the dining hall. Conversations hushed as he made his way directly to the high table, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that wasn't entirely feigned.
"Brother," Maison acknowledged, his voice carrying a warning edge that rippled through the room. "You're late."
"I was detained," Jackson replied, not ta
