Viggo
We rejoined the party twenty minutes ago. Arwen was handed a plate of food, but yet again, she ate one mouthful then put the plate down. How that girl survives on what little she eats, I’ll never know.
Scott waits until Arwen is dancing with her brothers before he turns to me.
The shift in him is immediate — from father to Alpha, from gentle to steel. His shoulders square, his jaw tightens, and the air around him sharpens with the kind of authority only a man who has survived too much can carry.
“Walk with me,” he says.
I follow Scott as he leads me out to the edge of the forest. The trees stand quietly around us, the sun hanging low and casting long shadows, the evening air cooling my skin. Scott stands beside me, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the trees as if searching
