When she opened the door to the Alpha King’s sprawling executive office,Ryder was seated behind his enormous mahogany desk,his focus narrowed on a digital report.He looked up,and his gaze—intense,calculating,the color of molten gold—met hers.A faint,almost perfunctory smile touched his lips.
“Late again,Elara?Just because you’ve been Claimed by the Alpha King doesn’t mean you can afford to neglect your duties.”
His tone was gentle,like a seasoned Beta’s,but his eyes carried the cold,ancient authority of the Alpha bloodline.There was no warmth,no devotion in that deep voice.
“The scent barriers were down for road work.”
Elara walked up to his desk and carefully slid the Separation Decree across the polished wood.
She took a slow,deliberate breath,forcing her voice to remain steady—unwavering,devoid of the fear she felt.“Alpha Thorne,I just concluded a new trade negotiation with the Southern Clan.This is the contract for the Black Forest logging rights.Your mark is needed here.”
Ryder reached for the document.Their hands brushed—a brief,electric contact.Elara’s heart hammered against her ribs,terrified he would detect the sour,deceptive scent of her lie.