Lycia

“Did Seven come with you?”

Mom shook her head, a small smile lighting her lips. “No, sweetheart. But your father’s downstairs. I could send a guard—”

“No. Thanks, Mom.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to see him.”

“Look,” said my mother sternly. “You have to let him escort you to save face between the Packs. If he doesn’t escort you, it will cast a shadow over your father and our family.”

“Oh, I’m going to let him ...