Xander's POV
The brisk autumn breeze carried the scent of pine and lake water across Emerald Wetlands Park as I watched my niece Cici run ahead of me, her bright yellow rainboots splashing through shallow puddles. Her delighted giggles were a balm to my wolf's restless spirit. As Alpha of the Granite Ridge Pack, my days were typically consumed by territory disputes and pack politics—moments like these were precious respites.
"Uncle Xander! Hurry up!" Cici called back, bouncing on her toes with childish impatience, the colorful kite clutched in her small hands fluttering in the wind.
I quickened my pace, scanning the open field for the perfect spot to fly our kite. That's when my wolf Orion suddenly perked up, catching a familiar scent on the breeze—sweet vanilla with undertones
