Paul's pov
It's been days since I last saw Pecan and here I was in a tense meeting.
The tension in the council chamber was suffocating, a steady hum of voices clashing as the ministers argued over the latest crisis. Reports of a border breach had sent ripples of panic through the pack, and now every minister seemed intent on out shouting the other with their proposed solutions.
I sat at the head of the table, my hands clenched into fists beneath the polished oak surface. My wolf growled restlessly inside him, demanding action, but I forced himself to remain composed. This was part of being Alpha; listening, assessing, and leading. Still, my patience was wearing thin.
"Alpha," one of the older ministers, Gregor, said, his voice rising above the din. "This is a direct threat to our territory. We cannot afford to appear weak, especially now."
I fixed him with a hard stare. "I've already sent patrols to secure the borders. Our warriors are on high alert. There's no need for panic."
