Guest
Reza Bryan’s house doesn’t look like an Alpha’s residence. No looming stone walls. No carved symbols of dominance. No guards stationed like statues at every doorway. The building sits slightly elevated among the trees, wood and glass and wide windows that let moonlight spill freely inside. It looks… lived in. Comfortable. A place meant for people, not power. Which means the power is real enough not to need decoration. “You wait here,” Bryan says easily, already halfway out of the room. He flashes me a grin over his shoulder, one corner of his mouth lifting like he’s amused by something only he can see. “Don’t redecorate.” The door closes behind him before I can decide whether that was a joke or not. I blink at the empty space, then turn slowly, taking in my surroundings. A sitting ro
- Writer
