Rejected By My Brother’s Alpha Best Friends
The cover read Bonds of the Old Packs in tarnished gold lettering, the leather cracked with age, spine barely holding together.
Tristan set it on the desk and flipped through brittle pages, scanning too fast for me to keep up, until he stopped on a page marked with a faded illustration — three wolves circling a single figure, their heads bowed toward her like an offering.
"Triple bonds." He read aloud, voice low, almost reverent despite himself. "Recorded only a handful of times across pack history. Considered myth by most modern packs, dismissed as corrupted record-keeping or exaggeration."
I leaned closer, scanning the faded text myself, the old ink barely legible in places where the page