31–ACT NORMAL
The hallways in the packhouse were already awake. Wolves moved through the hall with quiet efficiency, conversations low, bodies angled instinctively toward one another. A few glances tracked me as I passed—not hostile, not welcoming. Measuring. I kept my posture neutral and my pace even, repeating Trenton’s rules in my head like a checklist. Don’t wander. Don’t draw attention. Don’t encourage the bond. I made it to my car and drove to the office. I kept my head down as I stepped onto the executive floor. The space was quieter than the rest of the building—controlled, intentional. Wolves moved with purpose here, voices low, movements economical. This wasn't a communal pack space. This was his territory. Which meant he’d feel me the moment I arrived. I adjusted my grip on the tablet and
- Writer
