The infiltrator

KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The walls of the meeting room, carved from the heart of the ancient forest surrounding our stronghold, seemed to thrum with the urgency of our planning. I sat at the head of the aged oak table, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the intricate carvings of wolves that adorned the surface, a testament to generations of South Pack leadership. Elara Windrider's keen eyes were like two flints sparking over maps and scrolls, her brow furrowed as she plotted our maneuvers. Gamma Thorne stood like a silent sentinel behind her, his gaze unwavering and steely as he listened intently. My son Eden, despite his young age, absorbed every word, every strategy discussed with a solemn maturity.