XVI

Dylan

I cannot just go up to the Lycan King’s Mate, his Luna, and ask her if she is this lost heir or if she has children. I mean, we know she has a son, everyone knows she has a son. He will be eighteen in the spring, but The Lycan King’s son is his heir, we would have to give our pack over to him. If we don’t fix things, we will have to anyway.

I make my way to my father’s house and his home office. He moved to this townhouse after retiring. My father doesn’t run the pack or the business anymore, but he has been working on some side business venture idea he had.

“Dad, I’m glad you are in,” I say as I walk into his home office and meet his cold stare. I never thought green was a cold color, but when my father’s green eyes meet mine, I get a chill.

My father sits behind his enormous, showy, teak desk in his leather swivel chair with a casual but professional looking collared shirt and dark slacks. He never was good at unwinding, at least not after mom died.

I vaguely remember a