Third person POV
Lance hadn’t realized how heavy the Alpha’s crown truly was until it sat on his head — even temporarily.
He’d laughed about it once, teased Nolan relentlessly about the constant meetings and the political headaches. He used to say Nolan enjoyed the chaos, that he liked drowning himself in work because he didn’t know how to exist without responsibility.
Now? Lance wasn’t laughing.
The first few days after Nolan’s injury blurred together in a haze of obligations: patrol schedules needing revision, border reports pouring in, warriors seeking direction, neighboring Alphas demanding updates as if the pack wasn’t already stretched thin.
Papers stacked high on Nolan’s desk felt like walls closing in — every sheet a problem that required a delicate hand.
Everyone wanted an
