The packhouse library had been converted into a makeshift war room. Maps of Silver Fang territory covered one wall, marked with X's and circles in different colors. Combat strategies and notes were scribbled on a whiteboard. In the center stood a large oak table where Gabriel and Emily sat with grim expressions, a laptop open in front of them.
Kieran paced the room, rolling his shoulders as if already preparing for the fight ahead. The morning light caught the tension in his jaw, the determined set of his green eyes. At nearly thirty, he carried himself with the confidence of an experienced fighter, something Damien—at just eighteen—couldn't hope to match against Marcus.
I slipped in quietly, taking a seat in the shadowed corner where I wouldn't be visible on the video call. Part of me d
