Olivia looked at the garden that was drably decorated. There were no seating arrangements either. It was as if her father was in a hurry to send her off or send off the guests that he had called. Aroma of rich food wafted in the air but she wondered if the guests would even wait to eat the food. The garden was pretty huge, but she noticed that there were no more than fifty guests out there.
Members of the Whiteclaw pack were all huddled up together. They consisted of councilmen mostly and they stood close to her father. And then there were members of the Silver Vales—standing at a distance, their shoulders drawn back and expressions fierce. They looked at the Whiteclaw men like predators. Tension was palpable in the air and Olivia wondered if it hadn't been for her wedding, the two packs would have already been at each other's throats. Her mouth was paper dry.
