When I was getting close to the border the pull in my chest increased more. It started small at first a soft tug under the ribs but as I moved it grew until it was almost a weight. I felt it like pressure, like someone pressed a palm against my heart and would not let go. I had to fight that pressure. I am the alpha. I must not be seen as weak. Not in front of the pack members, not in front of the guard. I kept my face calm though the inside of me knocked like a drum.
I wanted, for a second, to have signed the rest of this morning’s orders to my beta. If he had them, I could have turned away and let him handle the paper mountain. A part of me even wished I had. It would have been easier. It would have let me focus only on the run, breathe deep, and use the motion to smooth the ache. But I
