The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Alpha’s office, painting golden streaks along the hardwood floor. The scent of pine and leather lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of conversation.

Grayson sat behind his desk, posture rigid, jaw locked tight in thought. His beta, Marcus, leaned over a map spread across the table, pointing to recent breaches along the southern border. Beside him, Delta Kade detailed the preparations for the upcoming Moonrise Ceremony, his voice low and steady.

There was a knock sharp, urgent.

Before anyone could respond, the door pushed open.

You stepped in, chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat clung to your brow, your hair sticking to your skin. The room fell silent for a beat, eyes turning toward you.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

Without a word, you crossed the room, your steps unsteady but determined. You reached him Grayson and without hesitation, climbed into his lap, curling into his solid frame like you belonged there.

Grayson didn’t react. His expression remained unreadable, eyes still fixed on the map before him, jaw unmoving.

“As I was saying…” he continued, voice level, unaffected, while his hand instinctively settled against your back, grounding you.

Neither Marcus nor Kade spoke, though a flicker of something unreadable passed between them. They were used to Grayson’s silence, his composure. But even they couldn’t ignore the way his fingers lightly tapped against your spine steady, measured. Reassuring.