DARRAGH’S POV

Back at the estate, I called for Marcus and Kris to meet me in the war room. The war room was what we called the basement conference area where pack security meetings were held. It was windowless and soundproof, designed for discussing sensitive matters without worrying about eavesdroppers.

Marcus arrived first. He was in his early thirties, built like a linebacker, with sandy brown hair and scars on his knuckles from years of fighting. He'd been one of my father's Sentinels, ...