Alpha Marcus sat in his private study, staring into the flames crackling in the fireplace. But the warmth barely touched him. The silence in the room was heavy, a little too heavy for his liking, and his mind, though tired, couldn’t settle around it. The recent events weighed on him—rogue attacks, pack losses, and the return of Adiana in a cloud of suspicion.
That’s when Amy entered.
She moved like a shadow, soft footsteps across the marble floor, her expensive silk gown brushing the floor behind her. She wore an expression that was calm, lips painted with concern, but her eyes…those glittering, calculating eyes burned with purpose.
“Alpha,” she said gently and a silky voice. “You haven’t touched your supper.”
Marcus glanced up at her but didn’t answer.
Amy stepped closer, folding her
