Meryl's POV
The council building stood before us like any ordinary courthouse you might find in downtown Manhattan. Glass doors stretched from floor to ceiling, security guards flanked the entrance, and we even had to pass through metal detectors like common visitors. Nothing about it screamed supernatural or ancient werewolf authority. Yet Andre never released my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine in a grip that felt both protective and claiming.
He held me as if I were made of precious metal, ready to destroy anyone who dared approach too closely.
Once we crossed the threshold into the council chamber, I understood how seamlessly the werewolf hierarchy had woven itself into human society. The space resembled a corporate boardroom more than any mystical den. Polished mahogany tables gleamed under modern lighting, surrounded by executive chairs that probably cost more than most cars.
The council members themselves shattered every expectation I had harbored.
