#91

As we pulled into the packhouse driveway, the weight of the recent events pressed down on my shoulders. The familiar surroundings, usually buzzing with lively energy, now stood in solemn contrast to the somber reality we faced.

"Eve, love, I'm going to go talk to some members of the pack. I must inform them of the events. Do you mind if I leave you for a while?" Ryan asked gently.

"Not at all. Go and do your job, Ray." I replied.

"If there's anything, call me."

"Of course," I responded, sealing our brief conversation with a kiss. It was a kiss that held both desperation and reassurance, an anchor in the storm that had swept through our lives.

The door closed behind Ryan as he left to address the pack, and I found myself standing in the quiet hallway, the echoes of recent events reverberating in my mind. Seeking solace, I retreated to the kitchen.

Mechanically, I poured myself a cup of coffee, the familiar routine offering a semblance of normalcy amid the chaos. The warmth of the