CHAPTER ELEVEN
My heart hammers against my ribcage as I stride through the shadowed halls of the Golden Paw Pack's meeting chamber. The elders, ancient and stoic, form a semi-circle around Ford, their voices a low thrum in the air. But urgency grips me. I can't wait any longer.
"Ford," I call out, louder than I intend, my voice slicing through the discussions like a knife. All heads turn toward me; disapproving scowls etched on weathered faces. I wince at my own audacity, but it's too late to retreat.
"Skye?" Ford stands up abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. His green eyes find mine, a silent question lingering there.
"I need to talk to you," I say, straight to the point. "It's important."
"Can't this wait, Skye?" One of the elders, with a long white beard that almo
