46. Zeke

I cannot believe the rest of the shifter nation used to look down upon Shadowlands. Rising Star is a basket case. Dressed in a stunning long blue gown, her hair radiantly wild with eyes that continued to tease me despite no longer being in bed I followed Freya towards one of the parlour rooms.

Cobwebs, the scent of stale air, and the shadows of missing picture frames greeted us. The pale, milky sofas were dusty, the desk overturned with delicate ivory paper scattered across the wooden floor.

“This used to be Luna Hollie’s space, I always liked it in here,” she admitted. “Phillipe was only Alpha for a few months. I don't know how everything turned so bad.”

I am good for some things, at least. With a grunt, I hoisted the heavy wooden desk back to upright and set about opening the windows to let fresh air in. The huge sash windows looked away from the border, from Shadowlands, the tunnels and reservoir but instead towards the smattering of villages and towns that covered the grassy hills