Teddy’s POV
My father called me into his office bright and early that morning. I had maybe gotten about three hours of sleep by the time the pack doctor had helped my leg heal more quickly with an IV and a witch hazel compact. The wound was still sore, but the hole had condensed down to the size of a quarter from the baseball chunk it had been.
Theodor Grave Senior glared at me as soon as I entered the office, still fuming from me cutting his link last night. “What do you have to say for yourself?” His stare could have put a nun to shame, but I was used to it; having gotten immune to the stare at an early age.
“What should I say? You’re welcome? The border is secure? Goddess, dad, we saved the pack from having future losses and all I get for it is chewed out; and you wondered why I neve
