Chapter thirty seven: Fire Beneath the Ashes

Damian

I stormed into the packhouse like a hurricane tearing through calm skies.

Two days. Two damn days.

I had been gone two days—handling the bullshit assignment my father had conveniently thrown in my lap. I’d known something was off. I’d felt it in my bones, like a splinter under my skin that refused to be ignored. But I went anyway.

Like a fool.

I didn’t stop to greet anyone. Not the guards, not the warriors who bowed their heads as I passed. Not even Darius, who looked like he had something to say but quickly stepped out of my path after one hard look.

My boots hit the polished floors of the Alpha Wing, echoing down the hall with my fury.

I didn’t knock.

I kicked the office doors open.

The thick, musky scent of cigars and leather hit me like a wall, and so did the oppressive energy of the man sitting behind the desk.

Alpha Rowen.

My father.

He glanced up from a document, calm and unreadable as always, like my entrance was nothing more than a breeze disturbing the silence.

I didn