EMORY'S POV
As I fled from the disastrous encounter outside and stepped into the pack house, I found myself face-to-face with two of the scariest women in the pack: Nana Bertha and Beatrice.
Nana Bertha stood with her hands on her hips. Beside her, Beatrice crossed her arms over her chest, her expression just as severe. I swallowed nervously as I approached them quietly.
It was Nana Bertha who shattered the silence, her voice sharp and commanding. "Sit down," she hissed, pointing to the nearest chair in the dining area.
I didn’t dare argue. I sank into the chair without a word.
"I'm sorry if I made you worry," I said immediately, hoping to cut the conversation short. It was late, and my legs ached from walking for hours. "It won't happen again."
"Damn right, it's not going to happen
