Lenny
I followed Seth through the corridors of the pack house, my mind racing through possible scenarios. A rogue attack? Territorial disputes? Financial crisis? Nothing in my experience had prepared me for the kind of fear I'd seen in Seth's eyes.
When we reached the main entrance, I immediately understood why he'd been so shaken.
In front of the pack house, I saw cars, not just cars but expensive ones. There were at least five of them lined up in front of the pack house.
As if that wasn't enough, my attention shifted to the group of men stepping out of them.
Everything about them was wrong.
They were dressed like they had walked out of a forgotten age.
They wore clothes that looked as if they belonged in a museum, with rough-hewn leather tunics, jewellery made of bone and stone, and cloaks that seemed to be crafted from animal pelts.
