Jake's POV
I didn’t sleep the night before Cyrus arrived.
Not because I was anxious.
Because I needed to think.
Cyrus Blackwood wasn’t someone you walked into a meeting with cold. He was tradition wrapped in muscle and protocol, the kind of Alpha who thought bloodlines were law and love was for the weak.
He hated improvisation. Hated feeling cornered.
Which meant today, I needed to make him think every move was his idea.
Not mine.
I stood alone in my office at dawn, staring out across the frost-crusted courtyard of Shadowridge. The fog hadn’t lifted yet. Neither had the tension. A few guards lingered near the gates, their breath visible in the chilled air.
I tightened the cuffs of my shirt and slipped into my coat, adjusting the collar just right.
This wasn’t just about presence
