Before anyone has a chance to stop me or change my mind, I make my way out of the dining room and towards the front entrance. The entire time, I grow more and more nervous over the possible content of whatever this letter is. If it appeared on its own, that means it was sent by some sort of magic, which means it was most likely the Delta. Whatever he has to say, I know my mates will not be happy about, and I’d like to be able to soften the blow with my delivery rather than have them read whatever’s on the page and flip their lids as a result.
I step into the crisp, cool evening air, giving a nod to the pack warrior waiting on the balcony. He points at the very front of the porch, where there is indeed a letter resting on the stone, with Amira Warner written in neat cursive on the front.
