I seal the fur sample carefully and slide it into my pack. “Do you want me to pull the team back?”
Alden finally looks directly at me again. The weight of his attention lands hard and steady and sends and unexpected shiver through me.
“I want you to get back to work,” he says.
And just like that, the moment ends.
12
ALDEN
By the time we reach the estate, the air feels tight in a way I do not like.
It is not overt danger yet, but my wolf paces beneath my ribs as if it senses pressure building. The patrol filters into the lower yard in loose formation, boots crunching gravel, voices low as they begin their debrief. I keep my posture neutral, but my attention tracks every scent and movement without effort.
Cassidy stands near the edge of the drive with her tablet in hand, already reviewing data from the ridge. Dirt streaks faintly along her sleeve, and the bandage beneath her collar pulls slightly when she shifts her shoulder. She looks tired, but the sharp focus in her gaze never dulls.
Tomas and Jace linger near her longer than necessary.
Tomas leans one shoulder against a stone pillar, talking low while Cassidy taps at her GPS overlay. Jace stands half a step too close, arms loose but attention fixed too firmly on her face. Neither is overtly disrespectful, but my wolf does not care about subtlety.
Heat rises fast and territorial.
I cross the yard without announcing myself. Gravel shifts under my boots, but neither of them hears it until I step into their space. Tomas cuts off mid-sentence, his mouth closing when he catches my expression.
A low growl slips out, human throat carrying just enough of the wolf to make it unmistakable. It is quiet, but it lands hard.
Both younger wolves straighten immediately.
“Patrol reports filed?” I ask, keeping my voice level.
Jace nods quickly. “Yes, Alpha. We were just finishing?—”
“Then move along,” I say.
Tomas’s jaw tightens, but he inclines his head. “Understood.”
They do not argue. They do not linger. Within seconds, both are heading toward the side entrance, conversation cut cleanly off as if I had severed it with a blade.
Cassidy turns toward me slowly, her expression shifting from neutral to sharp.
“That was unnecessary,” she says.
I fold my arms loosely, forcing my posture into restraint instead of possession. “They were lingering.”
“They were debriefing,” she replies, her tone cool but edged.
Up close, her scent hits harder than it should. Cold mountain air clings to her, mixed with pine resin and the faint metallic tang of field equipment. My wolf leans toward it, pressing against control with a hungry insistence that has nothing to do with discipline.
“They can debrief with Ciaran,” I say.
“They were speaking to me,” she counters.
Her gaze holds mine, direct and stubborn, and the defiance should irritate me. Instead it sparks something hotter and more dangerous, and I have to grind my teeth to keep it from showing.
“You sounded territorial,” she says flatly.
I feel my wolf surge at the word, offended and pleased at once. It takes effort to keep my face blank.
