*ALBERT’S POV*
We walked into my father's office, the familiar tension gripping me like a vice. The room was bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows on the floor. My father, Allen, stood by the window, his back to us, a commanding figure even in silence.
"Here comes our bride," he said, his voice deep and steady, without turning around.
"Good evening, Alpha," Nora replied warmly.
Ashley stood beside me, wide-eyed and silent, taking in the grandeur of the office. The walls were lined with old books and trophies, relics of our pack's storied past.
“How are you doing?” my father asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Nora replied, “I know you’re good too.”
My father's face, when he finally turned to us, bore a deep scar that ran from his left temple down to his jawl
