The scent of cedar and old leather in the Alpha's private study was rich and totally soothing. It was the total opposite to the panic that still built up beneath my skin. I took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I was safe, for now. Trapped, yes, but safe from the public eye and, more importantly, safe from having to confess the bloody truth about the rogues.
Alpha Dawn was seated at his massive, polished mahogany desk. He looked less like a fierce Alpha and more like a CEO, his casual black shirt is a dangerous softness against the hard lines of his focus. He had picked up the obsidian wolf carving again, his long fingers tracing the sharp edges of its snout with a slow, almost absentminded grace. The sun slanted through the tall window, giving his profile a perfect shadow, making him look impossibly handsome and equally remote.
