The heavy doors of the King's office swung open without a knock. Wren stepped through, his boots clicking against the polished stone floor, the long folds of his cloak sweeping behind him. His eyes, cold and unreadable, scanned the room, landing immediately on the man behind the ornate oak desk.
King Roan looked up from the parchment he'd been reading, his brow knitting. "Wren."
At once, as though sensing the weight in the air, Corvus, Roan's Beta, and Ewan, the sharp-eyed Gamma, rose from their chairs and slipped wordlessly out of the room. Neither man questioned the unspoken command. Wren did not wait to be invited to sit, he rarely did. Instead, he moved to the center of the room, standing like a blade ready to be drawn.
"What were you thinking?" Wren asked without preamble, his voice low but sharp as a whip crack.
Roan exhaled slowly and placed the parchment down. "You are going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of thinking, it is expected of me."
