Olive's POV
The cookies and orange juice had been sitting on the table for a little over three hours. Like any normally functioning werewolf, my stomach should be growling in hunger at this point but the thought of food had bile rising up my throat.
The usual snarky mouth of Atria had been forced closed by the circumstances.
Ron's fingers were repeatedly drumming against the table top, a welcome distraction from our thoughts.
Dalton's attention was called a few minutes back so he excused himself, leaving the four of us, five if you include the gigantic elephant in the room.
The door banged open so suddenly that I jumped in alarm, my face whipping to the source of the disturbance. Dalton.
His face revealed the gravity of whatever bad news he had for us. Just perfect. More terrible th
