ELDER MARKOV'S DWELLING
The car ride to Elder Markov's home took thirty minutes, driving deep into pack territory where the forest grew thick and ancient. Eve sat between Silas and Damon in the back seat, Damian driving, and tried not to think about how nervous she felt.
An elder who'd lived three hundred years. Who'd seen the rise and fall of countless pack alphas. Who supposedly understood things about the supernatural world that most wolves had forgotten.
What would he see when he looked at her?
"He's intimidating at first," Silas said quietly, sensing her anxiety. "But he's not cruel. Just... direct. He doesn't soften truths."
"That's reassuring," Eve muttered.
"He'll tell you exactly what he sees," Damian added from the front seat. "No sugar-coating. No gentle explanations. If you want real answers, that's what you'll get. But it might not be easy to hear."
