GREYHALL CROSSING - 8:57 PM
LANDON SOLVEIL'S ETA: 1 HOUR 12 MINUTES
Over the mountains, Landon Solveil had 157 miles left of his journey to Greyhall Crossing. He was blissfully unaware that his mate had just politely told forty-eight Alpha Kings to go fuck themselves.
While one of her mates was in the air, another was about to come unglued.
Nicholas Shadowfell rose, chest heaving hard enough to rearrange furniture. The room turned. Every mouth closed together like a synchronized swimming team that specialized in shutting the fuck up.
"I'm going to say this once." His voice was so low the men in the rear had to crane forward like they were trying to hear a confession. "The next Alpha, Beta, warrior, or fucking stable boy who threatens that woman or her wolf, or questions her bloodline is starting a war with Shadowfell. I will treat it as an act of aggression on my house and it will be personal, which means I will respond with everything I have."
He let it sit.
