Marcus stood by the tall window of his office, the cold glass cool against his palm as he stared out over the sprawling grounds at the edge of the city.
The trees' shadows covered half of the grass in the garden area.
His gaze shifted for a moment—catching his own reflection in the glass.
His face had changed.
The sharp edges of youth had given way to the harder lines of leadership. The brief time he had held the Alpha title had carved a new weight into his expression. His jaw was tighter now, always set. His eyes—once full of fire—had grown colder, sharper.
He looked older. Not in years, but in burden.
His dark brown hair, once tousled with boyish defiance, was now neatly styled to the side—an effort to maintain control in a world that seemed to unravel a little more with each passi
