Dawn's POV
The pack house felt restless tonight, like a hive that had been kicked. I could taste it in the air: nervous glances in the corridors, whispers that died the moment I stepped into a room. Three council members had come to me separately this afternoon, voices low, eyes shifting. Odessa had spoken to them. Odessa had suggested, sweetly, that perhaps it was time for fresh blood on the council. That perhaps the Alpha's attention was… elsewhere these days.
I signed the border papers Thomas had nearly dropped at my feet, handed them back, and dismissed the council early. Then I went hunting.
I found her in the old music room on the second floor, the one no one used anymore. Moonlight poured through the tall windows and painted silver stripes across the dusty floor. Odessa stood by the grand piano, trailing her fingers over the keys without pressing them. She wore a silk robe the color of fresh blood, hair loose down her back, the perfect picture of calm.
