The next morning, Jake was in his office early. The video call with Riley Westwood was already queued up. Callan sat on the edge of the desk, Russ leaned against the wall, and Lyra had taken a chair beside Jake’s. Her hand rested on the armrest, close enough for his pinky to brush against hers. He found himself doing it over and over, needing that small point of contact.
The screen flickered, then Riley’s face appeared. She looked radiant, just as he remembered, even through the grainy connection. Her long brown hair was braided back, and her large hazel eyes shone as she sat beside her mate, Alpha Kent Westwood.
Kent had an arm braced along the back of Riley’s chair, his expression tight.
“Riley, Alpha Kent,” Jake greeted, giving them a respectful nod. “Thanks for taking the time.” He
