IMARA'S POV
The silence in the room stretched like a taut rope ready to snap. I stared at Elder Prince Mingan, my mind spinning with questions I didn't dare voice. The firelight flickered across his weathered face, making the shadows dance in ways that seemed almost sinister.
"Why would you help me?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
Elder Prince Mingan smiled, and there was something cold about it that made my skin crawl. He moved to a side table where a crystal decanter sat filled with dark wine. His movements were deliberate, unhurried, like a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to run.
"Because I like Coal Valley," he said, pouring wine into a goblet with practiced ease. "Your pack is blessed. Rich soil, good hunting grounds, strategic positioning." He paused, swirling the wine before taking a sip. "And money... money is good."
I felt my stomach drop. "Money…"
