Brooks:
My footsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden stairs leading to my new suite at the top of the packhouse. The emptiness of the place struck me immediately, more pronounced now that Hattie's warmth, her presence, no longer filled these rooms. I paused at the doorway, hand on the polished brass knob, hesitation thickening the air around me.
Opening the door, I stepped inside, the quiet pressing in like a physical force. The space was grand—crafted for an Alpha, decorated beautifully by the pack with fine furnishings, fresh flowers, and the lingering scent of newly polished wood. But it felt meaningless without Hattie.
My chest ached as my eyes caught sight of the bed—wide, pristine, untouched. We had dreamed of sharing nights here, wrapped together in warmth and safety, but now those
