Harley’s P.O.V.

Carlos had been pacing the room for so long that I lost count of his steps.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

The faint sound of his boots brushing the floor echoed in the otherwise silent chamber. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched, and every few seconds, he dragged a hand through his hair like he was trying to pull the answers out of his own thoughts.

“Alpha Demetri still hasn’t sent a formal letter,” he finally said, his voice tight with worry. “But the message is clear. He will arrive at Grafburg within the next week.”

My heart skipped painfully.

“He’s planning a grand ceremony,” Carlos...