Great. Just great.

I sit up in my seat and prepare to tell him exactly how this pack run is going to go, but Connall speaks before I can.

“Why wouldn’t my son lead the run? He’s alpha here. A Raleigh through and through.”

My father turns to lock eyes with Connall, and just like that, I’m forgotten.

“Well, he’s a Winters, according to my daughter,” my father murmurs.

Connall’s eyes narrow. “He was born a Raleigh. There’s no more able leader than a Raleigh.”

I dart a ...