Author’s POV
The Grand Lodge is exquisitely decorated, crawling with Alphas, Lunas and enforcers from every major pack in the region. Security is iron-tight: silver-laced gates, scent checkpoints, guards in black tactical gear checking invitations against a master list.
Mark struts up to the main entrance in a cheap suit he rented for the occasion, clutching the cream envelope like it’s a golden ticket. The guard; a six-foot-six wall of muscle with a Nightforge crest on his chest, holds out one massive hand.
“Invitation and ID.”
Mark flashes the envelope, trying for swagger. “I’m a guest of the Luna of Nightforge. Personal invite.”
The guard scans the list, frowns, scans again. “Name?”
“Mark Smith.”
Nothing. The guard’s partner steps forward, hand already on the hilt of a silv
