CORVIN
I sat in the car for three seconds before I got out.
Not because I was afraid of what was on the other side of that door. Fear and I had not had a meaningful relationship since my twenties. I sat because I was doing the thing I had done since I was nineteen years old and first accepted this title, which was finding my face before I let the pack see it, and tonight that was taking considerably longer than it usually did.
I was tired in a way the drive had not caused and the drive was not going to fix.
I got out.
Marco was standing at the bottom of the steps.
I knew what that meant before he opened his mouth. Marco did not meet cars. Marco ran the pack house and sent people to meet cars and the fact that he was standing here himself in the dark instead of anywhere else in the building told me that whatever had happened at that wall today was the kind of news he did not trust anyone else to deliver to me with the right shape on it.
