Agatha
Josiah’s frustration was almost palpable. I watched his hand rake through his hair, dark and unruly from hours of restless pacing, his mind no doubt spinning in that endless cycle of duty and responsibility. When his stormy eyes turned back to me, they softened, just a fraction, but enough. It always fascinated me how easily I could do that to him, calm the mighty Alpha with a look, a tone, a carefully measured presence.
"This changes everything," he murmured, voice low, weighted. "We need to restrategize, tighten our security. I can’t let them get any closer."
His words should have filled me with worry, but instead, they tasted sweet. His world was crumbling, and yet he turned to me. Always me.
"I will," I promised smoothly, my face the perfect mirror of his concern. "But Josia
