ALEXANDER
It was already late in the evening.
I stood outside the pack house with my hands shoved deep into my pockets, staring into nothing in particular. The lights inside were on, voices drifting faintly through the walls, life continuing as if the world hadn’t cracked open hours ago. Everything around me felt distant, muted, like I was standing slightly outside of myself.
I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I wasn’t doing anything productive.
I was just… standing.
Thinking hadn’t helped all day. Neither had pacing, barking orders, or pretending I still had control over anything. At some point, exhaustion had settled into my bones—the kind that sleep wouldn’t touch. My wolf, Aiden, was restless beneath my skin, circling endlessly, unsettled by an absence he couldn’t accept.
Then it happe
