ALPHA Magnus Andersen
Instead, I see my eldest brother standing by the stone hearth, a silver chalice of spring water in his hand.
Ulrich Andersen does not need an introduction. He carries the air of command like it is stitched into his wolf hide. Broad-shouldered, perfectly groomed, with dark eyes that see too much and a deadly calm that hides a ruthless Alpha mind. Where Egon looks like brute force and Mads wears the arrogance of youth, Ulrich has always embodied control. Tonight, his fur cloak is draped neatly on a carved chair, his sleeves rolled up, his posture unyielding even in relaxation.
I stop in the arched doorway. "What the hell are you doing in my quarters?"