Mirra's archive was in the estate's oldest wing.Not the historical archive of pack records and alliance documentation that most packs kept in their administrative buildings. This was something else. A room that had been added to the estate three generations ago specifically for Mirra's work, with bookshelves built floor to ceiling on all four walls, a long central table covered in maps and documents and the specific, organized chaos of a scholar who knew exactly where everything was and had no patience for anyone who suggested the system was not systematic.Ethan brought me the morning after the welcome ceremony, which told me the timing was intentional. He had waited for the ceremony to be complete, for the pack's formal acknowledgment to exist as a fact, before introducing me to the woman who was going to tell me what that fact meant in the context of three centuries of documented history.He knocked once on the archive room's heavy door."Come in," Mirra said. Not warmly, not cold
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