(Siena POV)
The morning sun spills through Raiden's office's stained-glass windows, casting prisms of ruby and sapphire light across the polished oak floors.
Each breath tastes of parchment and pine, mingled with the smoky remnants of last night's fire still smoldering in the massive stone hearth.
My fingers trace the intricate wolf carvings on the armrest of the chair, feeling every ridge and valley worn smooth by generations of alphas before him.
“You can't keep doing this.” The words escape before fully forming the thought, hanging in the air between us like smoke.
Raiden stands with his back to me, a dark silhouette against the panoramic view of pack territory.
Mountains rise in the distance, their peaks still dusted with early autumn snow despite the warmth of the valley. His
