Alexandra POV
My father was waiting on the porch, a dark silhouette against the yellow glow of the foyer lights. He didn’t say anything as I climbed the steps. He just reached out and took my bag, his face set in that grim, stoic look he wore when he was trying to be "the Lead Beta" instead of my dad.
"Go upstairs, Alex," he said, his voice level. "Clean up. I’m starting dinner."
"I’m not hungry," I said, barely looking at him. I didn't wait for him to argue, heading straight for the stairs. I couldn't handle the pitying looks or a forced conversation about "what’s best for the pack."
Once I was in my room, I didn't go for the shower. I felt restless—wired in a way that made my skin crawl. I stripped out of my jeans and pulled on my leggings and a thermal top, lacing my boots tight eno
