uncers 71

The halls of the packhouse were quiet at night, the kind of silence that made you aware of your own breathing. I had already changed into something comfortable, my hair loose over my shoulders before I decide to take a walk. 

After about an hour outside, I decided to go back into the house. When I stepped into the corridor on the way back to my room, I noticed the faint line of golden light spilling out beneath the door of Alexander’s office, stretching across the floor. 

He was still awake… working. 

I told myself that I should just keep walking…it wasn’t my business if he wanted to spend half the night buried in his work. He was the alpha; it wasn’t unusual for him to be awake while the rest of the house slept. Still… something tugged at me. Maybe curiosity…maybe concern. Or maybe that dangerous, tender pull I had been trying so hard to ignore ever since I was forced into this role. 

“You’re not supposed to get attached, Faye.” 

I reminded myself of that constantly, like it was a prayer I had to whisper to keep from falling. But the truth was, I already was. A man like Alexander–strong, guarded, burdened with more responsibility than most could imagine–wasn’t the type people thought needed looking after. 

He kept everyone at arm’s length. No one thought to check on him. Maybe his sister Irene, occasionally. Cole too, sometimes. But otherwise? He was alone, even in a house full of people. 

And I… I couldn’t just walk past that light. 

So I stood there, staring at the door, fighting the battle inside my head. Don’t get attached, Faye. Don’t step closer. And yet my feet betrayed me. Before I realized it, I was standing at the open crack of his door, looking in. 

Alexander was at his desk, eyes fixed on the glow of his computer screen. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his jaw tense with concentration. He looked so absorbed that for a moment, I was certain he hadn’t noticed me. 

Until he spoke. 

“Are you going to come in,” he said, his voice calm, clipped, “or would you rather stand there checking me out?” 

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Phght 21 

Best rushed to my cheeks so fast i thought i might combust My mouth fell open, but no sound came out. He didn’t even look at me when he said it still focused on the screen, his fingers moving over the keyboard. The corner of his mouth, though, curved slightly. A smirk. He’d enjoyed catching me off guard. 

Mortified, I stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind me as though that would hide my embarrassment. “1-1 wasn’t checking you out,” I said, far too quickly to be believable. “I was just… My words trailed off uselessly. 

He finally looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Just what?” 

1 ignored the question, marched forward and sank onto the couch near the wall as though! had come here for that purpose all along. My arms crossed over my chest, a flimsy shield against his knowing gaze. 

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” he asked after a beat. His tone shifted back to its usual coolness, though there was still a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “Do you need something?” 

I shook my head. “No. I was heading to my room. I saw the light from the hall and…” | shrugged, pretending nonchalance I didn’t feel. “I thought I’d check if you’d heard anything from the police.” 

For a moment, his expression tightened. The amusement vanished. He shook his head, about to dismiss the topic, but then something seemed to occur to him. He reached for his 

phone on the desk, unlocked it, and turned the screen toward me. 

“Actually,” he said, “Derek sent me this earlier.” 

I hesitated before standing and crossing to him. He handed his phone to me. On the screen was a hand–drawn sketch, surprisingly precise and clean. 

A wolf, its mouth parted in a silent snarl. And above its normal eyes, a third eye drawn right in 

the middle of its forehead. 

I blinked. Then, to my own shame, a laugh escaped me. “What is this? Some kind of joke?” 

His gaze was steady, serious. “No. Derek said the guard in custody described this. It’s the design on a ring worn by the one who gave them direct orders.” 

My laughter died in my throat. I stared at the sketch again, this time more carefully. “A ring? With… this?” 

He nodded once. 

I handed the phone back to him slowly, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I’ve never seen 

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45% Paris 

anything like it 1 admitted 

“Neither have 1 Alexander said. His jaw tightened, his fingers brushing the edge of the phone before setting it back on the table. “Derek’s still trying to trace it. He’s searching every connection he can find. But so far… nothing.” 

My eyes flicked to the computer screen still glowing in front of him. “That’s why you’re still awake, isn’t it? You’re searching too.” 

He didn’t answer, but I took the silence for confirmation. 

Something inside me clenched. He carried so much, more than anyone should have to, and he carried it alone. The least I could do was sit here with him, even if my presence changed nothing. 

“Maybe I could help,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. 

His brows lifted, a hint of surprise crossing his face. “Help?” 

I nodded quickly, gesturing to the shelves that lined the office walls. Heavy tomes and rolled scrolls, some so old they looked like they might crumble if touched. “Those books… most of them are older than this packhouse itself, aren’t they? They contain histories, records of werewolf communities across the world. Maybe something about that symbol–three eyes, a wolf–shows up somewhere in ancient lore. I could look.” 

For a moment, he simply studied me, his expression rigid. 

“I’m not saying I’ll find anything,” I continued, my voice softer now. “But… I don’t mind staying up. To try. To help.” 

He leaned back slightly in his chair, still watching me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Maybe he thought I was being naïve. Maybe he thought I was overstepping. My pulse quickened, bracing for his rejection. 

“If you want to,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before. “But don’t exhaust yourself.” Relief flooded through me, though I tried not to show it. I turned toward the shelves. Even if I didn’t find anything, even if my efforts turned out useless, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he wouldn’t be alone in the silence of his office tonight. 

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