CHAPTER 208
The Great Hall of the Blackstone Pack house had never felt so small. Usually, its high vaulted ceilings and stone-carved pillars were a testament to the South's dominance.
Asprawling monument to the strength and history of the wolves who ran the plains. But today, the air was thick, stagnant with the suffocating scent of high-grade aggression and the sharp, metallic tang of fear that no amount of incense could mask.
Seated in a semi-circle of heavy oak chairs, carved from trees that had stood since the First Shift, were five visiting Alphas from the neighboring Southern territories.
They had arrived days ago for the annual Regional Summit, an event designed for diplomacy, trade, and the standard posturing of powerful men.
Alpha Silas was hosting this year, and for the past week, the halls had been filled with the sounds of banqueting and formal debates.
