The estate did not sleep.
It only listened.
Stone corridors held the chill of centuries, the kind that sank into bone and stayed there. Firelight trembled against high walls, casting shadows that bent and lengthened like creatures uncertain of their own shapes.
Alessandro stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back.
He had not moved since sunset.
Below, the valley lay quiet—too quiet. Even the wolves had stilled, as though the land itself waited for his permission to breathe.
Behind him, footsteps approached. Careful. Measured.
Beta Marco stopped a respectful distance away.
"My lord."
Silence.
Marco swallowed. He had delivered reports to the Alpha for years—bloodshed, betrayal, executions dressed as justice. None of those moments unsettled him the way this one did.
Because tonight's report was… domestic.
Human.
And somehow more dangerous.
"She returned from campus at dusk," Marco continued. "No physical harm. But—"
Alessandro's fingers tightened imperceptibly.
