Soren was three steps into Caelum’s office before the Alpha looked up from the boundary assessment he had been reading without retaining.
Soren closed the door and remained standing. “She is in your wing.”
Caelum set down the report. “There is an emergency protocol.”
“I know what the protocol says. I am saying she is in your wing, where everyone can measure whether you stand close to her or away from her.”
The office felt too formal for the truth between them. Boundary maps covered the side table. Council notes rested in precise stacks beside the fire. The north window showed the same white distance Wren had spent weeks planning to cross. All of it belonged to the Alpha. None of it helped the man behind the desk answer for the woman sleeping nine doors away.
Caelum’s expression remain
