foggy

About twenty pack members line the long dining table, a mix of females and males interspersed. Light instrumental music plays in the background, still low enough for everyone to carry on with their conversations. Two chairs sit to the right of the alpha and two on the left. Before I can narrow my eyes on him for attempting some sort of trick, he gestures to the seats on the left, rising from his chair to greet us.

Ryan follows behind me while the three other betas spread out, one moving to take guard behind us and the others taking their place in two opposite corners. Their keen eyes survey the room, keeping an eye out for any sign of attack.

“So glad you could make it,” Marcus says gruffly. I bite back the retort that springs to my lips, the one wanting to dig into him about not having much of a choice.

I drink in every inch of him, my wolf reveling in his scent of crisp pine and leather. I almost jump back in surprise when he steps forward, and Monte stiffens, coming up to my side.