GARRETT POV
By the time the sun started leaning low against the western treeline, staining the office windows in amber and rust, I had memorized every crack in the wooden desk in front of me and was two steps away from ripping out my own hair just to feel something different than numbers, lists, invoices, and Alpha Stan’s relentless commentary about structural integrity.
I didn’t want to be there.
I knew I had to be there.
That didn’t make it easier.
Silas was still at the hospital with Helena, and Eliah was somewhere between helping and spiraling in his own way, which meant the responsibility landed squarely on my shoulders, and I wasn’t going to fail them—not when half the eastern wall of the training hall looked like a bear had tried to chew through it and the main gates needed rei
