DEMIEN'S POV:
I clench my fists at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. I fight the urge to rise from my seat, to confront him. Instead, I study the faces around me, the older pack members who are nodding, their brows furrowed with concern. They’ve lived through wars and bloodshed, through droughts and lean winters. They are wary of change, afraid of anything that might threaten the fragile peace we've fought to build.
The chief elder, an old man with a face like carved stone held up a hand, silencing the murmurs. “We understand your anger, son,” he said softly. “But these rumors are spreading, and we must address them.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I want to know who started these lies,” I demanded. “I want to know who dares to question Lena and my child’s bloodline.”
The chief eld
