Natalia
“We have to call Damon,” I said, pacing back and forth across the floor of Andrei’s office. The space was still exactly as I remembered it: two armchairs sitting in front of the fireplace, a large window overlooking the driveway below, tall bookshelves lining the walls, and a large mahogany desk dominating the space.
Andrei was sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands. Even from here, I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as his mind raced to come up with a solution to our dilemma.
“He won’t know anything about this,” Andrei muttered.
I flashed him a withering look. “Our son could die. We need all the help we can get.” I drew in a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Besides, Damon knows more about pack history than anyone I’ve ever met.”
