Grayson drove down to his cabin. He killed the engine, the sudden quiet of the cabin’s clearing pressing against his eardrums. He sat for a moment, his hands still gripped tightly around the leather wrapped steering wheel, the weight of the Alpha’s mantle heavy on his shoulders.
Before he could even reach for the door handle, a figure emerged from the darkness of the porch. George, one of his most trusted men, didn't wait for Grayson to descend. He rushed forward, his pace hurried but respectful, his boots kicking up dust in the twilight.
Grayson stepped out, the cool mountain air hitting his face. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness of the long drive.
"Alpha," George greeted, stopping a few feet away. He offered a short, sharp nod, a gesture of loyalty that Grays
