The evening sun dipped low, casting golden hues across the pack house living room. The familiar scent of pine and blooming wildflowers drifted in through the open windows, but the atmosphere inside was heavy with anticipation.
Alpha Griffin stood by the stone fireplace, his silver eyes thoughtful, his posture relaxed but commanding. His children were scattered around the room—Opal sitting cross-legged on the floor, her silver hair falling over her shoulders, her violet eyes wide with curiosity. Ash leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his face hard as he scowled at the floor. Brooks and Ridge lounged on the couch, while Forrest was sprawled on the rug, his legs stretched out, tapping his fingers against his knee.
Griffin cleared his throat, his deep voice commanding attention. "It's time we had a conversation about fated mates... and chosen mates."
Opal's heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening. Mates... why now?
