ELENA
Jacob and I had just finished going over the last of the moving logistics when Aiden flopped—very dramatically—onto the Moonstone Packhouse rug, sighing as though life had wronged him personally.
“You good?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder as I tucked the last checklist into my folder.
“No.”
I arched a brow. “Care to elaborate?”
“I’m bored,” he groaned, staring at the ceiling like it was responsible.
Jacob chuckled from where he was leaning against the banister. “We’ve only got one more hour of planning, buddy. Think you can hang in there?”
“No.”
Jacob, undeterred, pushed away from the railing and crouched next to him. “We’re doing some pretty cool stuff here, you know.”
Aiden gave him a skeptical side-eye.
“Helping wolves. Building programs. Changing the future.” Jacob
