Dax POV
Kael’s scent is a relentless ghost, wild honeysuckle and crackling lightning that clings to my senses, cutting through the Alpha’s office where the air hums with ink, stale coffee, and the faint copper tang of blood lingering from the packhouse halls after the rogue attack. Rune, my wolf, is a relentless storm inside me, clawing at my ribs, howling Mate! with a primal urgency that makes my pulse pounding, my fists clenching against the desk’s edge. She’s a rogue—a rogue who tore into our borders with silver-tipped claws—and yet Rune doesn’t care, his need to free her warring with my Beta loyalty to Kai and the pack. I slip away from the office, Leila’s coffee tray a fleeting distraction as she fusses with files. The steel tray in my hands – crusty bread, venison stew, a bruised ap
