Then, Hugh Wyatt shot to his feet and strode out, moving so fast it was as if a ghost were chasing him.
CREAK...
The office door was still swinging. Inside, Silas Thornton was all alone.
He stared, a little baffled, at the black gift box on the desk and chuckled softly.
Silas Thornton shook his head with a sigh and leaned forward to pick up the box.
In the center of the box was a wolf carved from solid black jade. It sat poised on the edge of a cliff, exuding a commanding aura.
A single glance was enough to tell it was incredibly valuable.
Silas Thornton's eyes flickered, and an unexplainable warmth spread through his chest. "That little punk... how did he know to give me something like this?"
He wondered, 'Have the Wyatts figured out my identity?'
'Otherwise, how could it be such a coincidence? Why would Hugh Wyatt, of all people, gift me a black wolf?'
