After lunch, following the words of the Alpha Father, we entered Lean’s private office. The room, located within the private wing of the pack house, had a sober, masculine air. The walls were lined with shelves filled with law books, treaties on the history of the packs, and several volumes that looked ancient—possibly even sacred. There was a faint scent of leather, wood, and freshly brewed coffee.
I sat down on one of the sofas in front of the desk, with Kael on one side and Lean on the other. The twins' father, Sigmund, remained standing by the window, arms crossed, his wife—Luna Mother Hilda—beside him, both gazing out into the garden.
The silence in the room thickened, as if each of us were waiting for someone else to speak first.
At last, it was Sigmund who broke the stillness.
“
