(Raiden POV)
The first rays of dawn filter through the windows of the Alpha quarters, painting my sparse chambers in hues of gold and amber that remind me painfully of Siena's eyes.
I haven't slept.
Again.
The tangled sheets bear witness to hours of restless tossing as strategies formed and collapsed in my mind, each less satisfactory than the last.
The air feels stale, trapped too long within these ancient stone walls that have housed generations of Alphas who never faced the challenges now threatening to unravel everything.
I rise and fling open the windows, inhaling deeply as cool morning air rushes in, carrying the scents of pine and earth and the underlying musk of pack territory that has always grounded me.
Today, even these familiar scents fail to
