[Mira POV]
There was a specific, undeniable authority in a perfectly clear desk.
Mira's workspace in the second-floor administrative wing was a wide expanse of polished mahogany, completely devoid of clutter. There were no stray quills, no stacked ledgers waiting to be filed, no decorative paperweights left to gather dust. The room itself was warm, insulated by heavy velvet drapes and a fire that was never allowed to burn low—a privilege of rank and money that she utilized without a single ounce of guilt. It was an environment engineered for absolute control.
When a person governed the internal logistics of the largest Pack on the continent, they did not have the luxury of disorganization. Alpha Caelan ruled through the sheer, suffocating weight of his presence and his flawless command
