Lyra’s POV
The Pack House was very silent, just before a great storm began to blow. I made my way down the long stone hall towards the workroom Kaelen used for himself. My naked feet were just hissing over the cold surface.
I did not knock, but threw the door aside, making it sound loud against the wall. I peeped inside and fortunately, Kaelen was there, lying over his large desk, with a pile of maps on it that stippled in the areas where the dangerous rogues lived.
He was as dull as a caught spy wolf. But his face was set, his golden eyes fixed on the ink-spots as if they were nothing.
The room was smelling of office papers and cold coffee, but under the smell, there was this heavy and deep odour of a frustrated wolf male. Maybe Kaelen was angry or disappointed by something.
"Kaelen
