DANTE’S POV
The echo of our footsteps filled the long hallway of Alpha Bennett’s pack house.
Scott walked just behind me and Alpha Bennett walked at my side, his eyes constantly darting to my face when he thought I wasn't looking. The man was older, his dark hair streaked with gray. Though age had begun to weigh on him, he carried himself with the authority of someone who had been alpha long enough to understand both power and responsibility.
“I must apologize, Alpha Dante,” Bennett began, his voice low and sincere. “For calling you here on such short notice. I know it is not ideal. But the situation I find myself in leaves little room for delay. Every second wasted could cost me more than I can afford to lose.”
I studied his profile as we walked. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed.
