Ashton:
The early morning light filtered through the large windows of the packhouse, casting long shadows across the polished wood floors of my father’s office. I stood in front of his massive desk, my shoulders squared and my resolve firm, though I could feel the storm brewing in the room before I even spoke.
My father, Alpha Richard, looked up from a stack of papers, his sharp blue eyes—so much like mine—narrowing as he took in my expression. “Ashton, what’s this about? It’s barely dawn.”
I took a deep breath, my hands clenching at my sides. “I need to talk to you about the Alpha position.”
His gaze darkened immediately. “You’re ready to take over sooner than I expected? Good. It’s about time you—”
“No,” I interrupted, my voice steady but firm. “That’s not it.”
His expres
