“By the way,which subsidiary Clan did you negotiate the Black Forest deal with yesterday?I don’t recall asking the Pack Council,”he said,his voice casual.
Elara remained outwardly calm.“It was the Elder Weston’s legal team.Do you require the signed Decree for review,Alpha?”
Ryder paused,chewing slowly.Just when Elara’s palms began to sweat with fear of discovery,he suddenly broke into a rare,easy smile and ruffled her hair.
“I trust my claimed Mate,”he said lightly,his tone dripping with careless assurance.
Elara dropped her gaze.The pain in her chest sharpened—the kind of silent ache that came from a bond perpetually ignored.For years,she had yearned for him to truly care about her contributions to the Pack—to scrutinize her work,to caution her about Rogue Territory risks,or to offer true Alpha guidance.It had only ever been a phantom hope.
After the frigid breakfast,as they stepped into his armored transport,Ryder’s specialized comm-link pulsed with an emergency code.It was Lyra.
From the other end,her voice was a trembling sob,thin and fragile.“Ryder,my former mate’s Clan is blocking the main gateway to the refuge den.They’re demanding my return—I…I don’t know what to do…”.