Chapter 33. A War Is Coming

I sit quietly in the bedroom I was frogmarched into a few hours ago. The food tray some random Santo dumped in here for me is untouched, as I’ve no appetite, and I’m lying on the bed staring at the endless white ceiling of a room that probably cost more to decorate than they spent on the orphanage the whole time I was there. Bored out of my mind, nothing in the house has been working since my explosion. Nothing electronic, no lights at all, and they are working on rectifying it. I’m still not convinced I did this, but it all seems to point that way.

Apart from the boarded-up window and the now décor free shelves after they swept through, removing the carnage of smashed items, it’s pretty nice. Gold and cream with brown leather and opulent fabrics. It’s like a hotel boudoir in a five-star establishment and bigger than the entire lounge and kitchen at the rejects’ home.

The Santos always were one of the wealthiest packs in Radstone, and it shows. Their packhouse is a mansi