The pack house had never been so silent.
Every wolf could feel it — the tension thickening the air, the unease that hummed beneath every heartbeat. The Twin Alphas no longer stood side by side.
Damon kept to the western wing, his doors locked, his aura sharp enough to make lesser wolves flinch. Darius commanded from the eastern grounds, his warriors patrolling through the mist-covered forest with eyes glowing silver.
Once, their bond had guided the pack like two halves of one heartbeat.
Now it pulsed unevenly — fractured, unpredictable, and dangerous.
⸻
That night, Damon sat alone in his study, papers spread before him that he hadn’t read in hours. The mirror across the room was covered by a sheet. He couldn’t bear to see what might look back.
But the scent of rain and roses filled
