CURSED TO THE TRIPLET ALPHAS
“I’ve noticed.”
“There’s a reason.” He was quiet for a long moment, jaw tight, and she recognized the particular stillness of someone deciding whether to open a door they’d kept shut a long time. “Three years ago we lost a packmate. Kieran. He was young, barely past his first shift, and I was leading the patrol that night.”
Sloane didn’t say anything. She’d learned enough about grief in her own life to know it didn’t want to be interrupted, only witnessed.