Lora remained silent, her face a mask of cold resolve as she followed Azriel to their room. They gathered their items quickly, the weight of the recent events heavy in the air. Soon, their entourage was ready for departure. They exited the Pack House, and everyone boarded the cars, but Azriel held Lora back.
She looked at him with a questioning gaze but soon understood why. The noise from above grew louder, and soon a helicopter bearing the royal insignia descended, landing gracefully in the clearing. “This is our ride,” Azriel said, nodding one last time to Alpha Ben in farewell.
Lora started to walk toward the helicopter, but a voice called out from behind. It was her father, Beta Graham. She turned to face him, her expression unreadable.
“I’m sorry, Elora... please,” he said, his voi
