Kapitel 12: Chapter 12: No Time Left to Grieve.

Phoenix’s POV.

“His body isn’t even warm in the ground and we’re sitting here in the d*mned office talking about politics. We need to be out there ruling out foul play!”

“You don’t need to remind me about my son's death, Miguel,” my father barked back. “Do not mistake my focus on propriety on my thirst for justice and need for avenging my son's death—”

My heart might as well stopped breathing the moment I walked into that cabin, and scented death in the air. Every single time someone in our clan reminded me of his passing was a knife in my chest. An ache in an already open wound reminded me that the one constant in my life was gone.

“Are we even sure that foul play was even in play, Alpha?” Carl, a wolf older than sand itself, pipped up.

“We,” my father barked, slamming his fist down on the hand-carved table, his voice vibrating low, “are not here to discuss the death of my son. We are here to discuss the mating ceremony and the Meute de loup Pack.”