Chapter 8: Fabrications and Fractures

By late afternoon, the atmosphere in the main hall was charged with anticipation. Alpha Brannon and Damien’s were still together. The gathering of pack members and household staff was thick with speculation. The door was firmly shut behind him, and the muffled voices of the two men carried through the walls. I found myself compelled to eavesdrop, my curiosity overwhelming my sense of propriety. I was certain Damien’s account of the night’s events would shape the response of the pack and could potentially influence my own standing. The minutes ticked by slowly until the door finally opened, and Damien emerged, looking both relieved and wary. Alpha Brannon’s stern gaze followed him, and the tension was evident in the way he sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Damien’s expression was a careful mask of composure, but I could sense the weight of his fabricated story. I waited for the right moment and then made my way to the garden, a secluded area where Damien loved to be alone. As I