Chapter 56

• The quiet reverie on the balcony didn't last long—it never did when two one-year-old wolf pups were involved. Alex let out a sharp, impatient burble against Dante’s shoulder, his little fingers tugging on the Alpha Heir's dark silk lapel, while Ember made a violent grab for Ryder's dark hair, giggling wildly as she pulled herself upright against his broad chest.
• "Breakfast," Ryder grunted, though his dark eyes melted with pure, unadulterated affection as he adjusted his grip on Ember. "Before the terror twins decide to eat my collar for real."
• We retreated back into the warm timber heart of the cabin. Our kitchen was a sprawling space of dark slate, exposed cedar beams, and a heavy stone hearth that was currently roaring with fire. Watching Dante and Ryder navigate morning prep was still one of my favorite pastimes. Dante, the tactical mind who could dismantle an enemy pack's financial infrastructure in twenty minutes, stood at the marble counter with surgical precision, heating goat's milk to exactly ninety-eight degrees and slicing organic fruits into uniform cubes. Ryder, on the other hand, leaned against the stove in low-slung sweatpants, his bare, heavily scarred torso glistening in the firelight as he flipped thick stacks of griddle cakes with one hand while holding a squirming Ember with the other.