Wren
The old law is simple. A white banner buys words, nothing more. No weapons past the gate, no harm under the roof, and when the words are done, one hour's grace to ride away. Even Alphas can't refuse it. Even monsters can claim it.
So at midnight, in the great hall of the Nightbane mansion, with fifty warriors lining the walls and my three men and my brother arranged around me like a wall with a gate in it, I finally sat across a table from the man who had farmed my whole life.
Maddox was worse up close.
Not frightening the way Zephyr can be frightening, all storm and weight. The opposite. He was comfortable. He sat in a hostile hall ringed by wolves who wanted him dead, and he sat the way a man sits in his own kitchen, and that comfort was the most violent thing in the room. His s
