**THREE WEEKS LATER**
The packhouse stood before me, nearly complete—a testament to the tireless work of many eager hands. Workers with dirt-streaked faces longed for normalcy, hoping for sturdy homes to replace their makeshift tents. Only Caleb and Paisley knew I was Jack’s mate, but I hadn't seen Paisley since arriving. The cold distance from everyone was disheartening; I was determined to prove there was nothing between me and the man they called the Devil.
Caleb stepped into the half-finished house, the smell of fresh paint and wood in the air. “The Alpha wants you to decorate the interior,” he said urgently.
“I’m not an interior designer!” I protested, crossing my arms.
“Just don’t mess it up. He’ll make you redo it,” Caleb cautioned.
“Why not let one of his followers do it?” I g
