Darien
The reports were waiting for me when I came downstairs.
Cain had left them on the study desk in a neat stack, organized by urgency. The worst ones were on top. He knew I’d rather take the hit first and recover than wade through pleasantries before the punch landed.
I sat down. Leah was still asleep upstairs. She’d been sleeping most of the day, her body pulling her under with an insistence that worried me more than she knew. The healer said rest was the best thing for her while we waited for the cure. Rest and no use of her powers. She was doing both, which was the only reason I could sit in this chair instead of standing over our bed counting her breaths. Which I did for the first half of the day.
I opened the first report.
Two more packs attacked. The Aldridge Pack and a smal
