ALPHA JULIUS
After the conversation with Martha, we made our way downstairs for breakfast. The dining hall was quiet except for the occasional clinking of silverware.
Martha barely touched her food, lost in thought. I watched her, the determination in her eyes more powerful than ever.
I knew she was holding on to hope, but now she was holding on to something new—Ayla and Natalia.
Once we were done eating, I called over Claudia, who had been quietly overseeing the meal from a distance. She approached the table with a curious expression, hands clasped in front of her.
“Claudia,” I began, my voice steady, “I need you to call Ayla and Natalia to our room. Tell them we need to speak with them.”
Claudia’s brow furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Of course, Alpha. May I ask if everythi
