C330 A DANCE IN THE DEN OF WOLVES

"You walk into my house as if you own the air we breathe," the North King said, his voice rolling like thunder over the long tables. He sat at the head of the hall, swirling a glass filled with a deep, red liquid that was far too bright to be wine. "Damon of the Alphas. And you brought your little fire-starter with you."

Damon didn’t stop until he was at the center of the room