Zavian’s POV

My flight to Switzerland was quiet and peaceful.

I watched clouds drift below the jet’s wings, a mixture of white and silver against the morning sky. My mind wasn’t on the meeting ahead or the wedding. It was on Velvet.

She had looked so small in my shirt this morning, her lips trembling as she told me not to go. I could still smell her raspberry shampoo, her warmth on my skin. Leaving her had felt wrong. But when duty calls you answer.

The pilot’s voice broke my thoughts. “Alpha, we’ll land in Swissville in ten minutes.”

I nodded and adjusted my jacket, taking in the view. Below...