DARKHOWLER — GARRETT'S STUDY
Garrett poured two whiskeys. It was mid-day. Neither of them commented on the time because the time was irrelevant when the conversation was this loaded.
Fin had given him the broad strokes. The volcano. The ancestors. The sacred fire. Three matebonds. The reincarnation roster. The green magic. The Gamma who was apparently a Fae prince, an Alpha, and the original Dragon King wearing a wolf suit. All of it delivered in the clipped, controlled cadence of a man debriefing a fellow king while his jaw did things that jaws do when the debriefing is also a confession.
Garrett sat across from him, one ankle crossed over his knee, whiskey in hand, wearing the expression of a man who had just received enough information to restructure his entire understanding of divine politics and was choosing to process it one sip at a time.
