The meeting had stretched longer than expected, filled with reports on border patrols, supply updates, and upcoming gatherings between allied packs. Yet, even as warriors and elders took turns voicing their concerns, Damien’s mind wandered — a rare thing for someone so precise, so controlled.
Now, as the sun dipped lower, the golden light spilling through the tall glass windows of the packhouse’s council room, only two figures remained — Damien and Marcus. The Beta leaned casually against the edge of the large oak table, while Damien sat back in his chair, one hand loosely holding a glass of untouched whiskey.
The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was thick. The kind of silence shared between men who understood too much without needing words. Finally, Marcus broke it.
“Y
