Alan's POV
Last night with Isabella felt different. We turned the tedious work of digging security trenches into something electric between us. Her competitive fire ignited something primal in me, and when our wolves emerged, the connection blazed even stronger. Saggio practically vibrated with desire watching Dasha move with fluid grace. She let him admire her, then pressed her muzzle against his in a gesture that mirrored the tenderness Isabella showed me. The acceptance from both sides of her made my chest tight with hope.
We returned to the packhouse exhausted but buzzing with unspoken energy. Dinner became an exercise in restraint with Summers inserting himself into every conversation and Zendaya trailing behind him like an eager shadow. No stolen moments, no secret touches. Just the weight of his calculating stare and my growing certainty that he suspected something.
This morning, I opened our secure chat with purpose.
Me: Get your father to let you spar with Summers today.
