A month later,,
The meeting room is charged with tension, a palpable weight that makes every breath feel heavier.
The long table, carved from dark oak, stretches between the pack elders, Kieran, Ace, and Jun.
The elders murmur amongst themselves, their voices a dissonant blend of confusion and frustration.
At the head of the table, Kieran sits with his back straight, though his knuckles whiten as they grip the armrests of his chair.
His dark eyes scan the room, but every so often, they flicker toward Ace, who sits stiffly on the opposite side of the room.
The distance between them feels like a chasm.
Ace's arms are crossed tightly, his gaze sweeping across everyone except Kieran.
He hasn't looked at Kieran once since it began, and the indifference eats away at Kieran's composure.
