“Sir,” the assistant said, his voice low but urgent. “A call came in earlier from Ravenhold Bastille Maximum Prison, while you were still in the conference call meeting.” Harlan Larkin didn’t look up. His pen scratched across the paper with mechanical precision. “And?” he asked, his tone clipped and disinterested. “It was about Attorney Marshall,” the assistant replied, watching his superior carefully. “He made a visit there today.” That made Harlan’s hand pause mid-signature. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He was General Harlan Larkin... The younger brother of the former Alpha, who had once challenged his own nephew, Mason Larkin, for the title when his older brother died.
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