27-
Twelve hours later, I’m standing at the front doors of the pack house, heart pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to claw its way out.
We’re waiting for our tenth Alpha. And the house is already overrun. The weight of so many auras pressing in on each other is suffocating—dominance woven thick into the air like smoke. Even the walls seem to creak beneath it.
The kids have been suspiciously well-behaved.
Which does nothing to ease my nerves.
What horrors are they planning for when the Alphas leave? A glitter trap in the engine room? A banana in the exhaust pipe? Some sort of coordinated sugar-fueled mutiny?
Caden pulls me closer as the next car rolls up the drive. His arm slips naturally around my waist, like we’ve been doing this for centuries—not just since the mate bond ev
