Mom and I were ushered into the sterile waiting room, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead contrasting with the comforting warmth of the coffee Ryan had brought us. The rich aroma filled the air, but it did little to ease the tension coiling in my stomach. Soon after, Alpha Matthew strode in, his commanding presence instantly filling the space as he took a seat across from us.
I glanced around, absorbing the starkness of the room—white walls, a small table with outdated magazines, and the plush but uncomfortable chairs. Feeling the weight of the conversation looming over us, I leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees, desperation clawing at my thoughts.
"Was it his pack that attacked?" I ventured, breaking the heavy silence.
"The Devil's?" he responded, brows knitted toget
