In the dark middle room of Sylvia's shop that smelled of incense, the two female elders were processing all of the information they had been given about the lycan's fae origins, the deal the elders had made in exchange for the pack's alyko, and the likelihood of vampiric involvement.
"What I find to be odd about the timing of this information," Charlotte finally spoke in patient, measured words that sounded almost melodic, "is the folklore of the fae as it coincides with the Samhain festival."
Everyone else squinted or frowned in puzzlement.
"What do you mean, Charlotte?" Greta asked. "That's just folklore, and the timing of all of this is coincidental. What does it have to do with anything?"
"Folklore can't be entirely dismissed can it? Here we are talking about the reality of the fae, about our origins existing within them. And now another unexpected being has emerged to take part in our story—one that the elders have invited in."
