The heavy clock on the far wall ticked louder than usual, slicing through the silence between the two men. The fire in the hearth crackled lazily, throwing uneven shadows across the room—stretching, shrinking, then swallowing whole the expression on Greyhem’s face. For the first time in years, the Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack did not wear his usual devilish smirk. No arrogance, no mischief—only a deep, troubled frown that sat like a scar across his features. His elbows rested on his knees, hands pressed together under his chin, and his eyes fixed blankly on the half-open file before him. He breathed out slowly, the exhale sounding more like surrender than fatigue. “You humans…” he began, voice rough but steady, “You think you understand history, but you only read what’s left after the blood dries.” Corey tilted his head, his wine glass paused halfway to his lips. “When you say you humans, what do you mean exactly?” His tone w
Last Updated : 2025-10-13
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