Paul's pov
The morning started uneventfully. I was in my office, a pile of paperwork on the desk in front of me, trying,and failing,to focus. Thoughts of Pecan hovered at the edge of my mind, an ever-present distraction I couldn't seem to shake. The mate bond was a constant pull, reminding me of the connection I was ignoring, yet every time I tried to push it down, it only came back stronger.
A knock at the door snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts. "Come in," I called, sitting up straighter.
Fiona stepped inside, her sharp eyes cutting through the air as they landed on me. The pack's healer rarely visited without reason, and judging by the set of her jaw, I could tell this wasn't a social call.
"Paul," she said, her voice calm but firm, "we need to talk."
I gestured for her to sit, though I already had an inkling of what this was about.
"Is this about Pecan?" I asked, skipping the formalities.
