Twelve o'clock sharp.

The soft glow of the bedside clock stared back at you—mocking, almost—marking the third night this week that Ran came home late.

As Alpha, it was no surprise that his days stretched long and demanding. He carried the weight of the pack on his shoulders with quiet strength, every decision calculated, every step precise.

But lately, his silence lingered longer than usual.

He barely spoke when he returned, brushing past you with a tired nod, as if your presence—once his haven—had become background noise. And though you tried to be patient, your thoughts betrayed you. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was just the pressure... or if something deeper was pulling him away.

Still, you stayed up. Night after night. Not to confront him, but simply to see him walk through the door—just to steal a few minutes of his time, and maybe, if he’d let you, remind him that he didn’t have to bear it all alone.