[The Executive Floor]
Elder Varyn did not waste time.
Rogan had barely taken two steps onto the executive floor when the old wolf stepped into his path.
He was taller than Rogan had expected, spine straight despite his age, silver hair tied back neatly.
His presence wasn't loud but it was still intimidating.
"Rogan Hale," Varyn said, voice calm. "You carry yourself like a man who has lived among packs far older than the one you claim."
Rogan stopped.
He turned slowly, meeting Varyn's gaze without deference, without hostility.
"I lived long enough," Rogan replied.
Varyn's eyes sharpened.
"Which pack?" he asked.
Rogan didn't hesitate. "A small one, no territory worth mentioning."
"That is not what I asked," Varyn said evenly.
Rogan's jaw tightened, just a fraction. "It's the only answer you are getting."
Silence stretched between them.
Varyn studied him the way scholars studied ancient texts, patient, thorough, already sensing the gaps.
