At this hour of the night, the bond between us was quieter, but no less intense. The pack-house had dimmed into stillness, the corridors softened by night-ward wards that hummed with protective Alpha energy.
My phone vibrated once beside the bed.
Come to my room.
Elliot.
No rank, no formality—just instinct pulling me toward him.
I found him in the master chamber, leaning back against the headboard. Even injured, his Alpha presence filled the space, heavy and unyielding, like a territorial claim I couldn't step out of even if I tried.
"Sleep with me tonight," he said, patting the empty space beside him.
I narrowed my eyes immediately. "No."
The refusal barely landed before his gaze sharpened, instincts tightening like a leash being tested.
"I can't rest without you here," he said, voice lower now—less command, more need.
And that was the problem. He was still Alpha enough to make "need" sound like an order.
