The Den hasn’t changed.
The bass still throbs like a second heartbeat beneath the floorboards. Red lights bleed across scarred wooden tables. The scent of whiskey, sweat, and wolf musk hits me the moment I push through the heavy steel door: familiar, grounding, and strangely distant all at once.
I haven’t been here in …fucking months.
Not since Sienna walked in wearing that silver necklace like a dare. Not since my entire world narrowed to her scent, her fire, and the tiny life now sleeping in a bassinet guarded by my mother and half the pack.
The club feels like a relic from another life.
Ryker spots me immediately from behind the bar. He straightens, wiping his hands on a rag, and gives me a nod that carries more weight than words. The place is quieter than usual — only a handful o
