Lyra's POV
Ash settled into the witness chair with quiet dignity, his movements controlled despite the tension crackling through the atrium. The afternoon light streaming through the high windows caught the sharp angles of his face as he composed himself.
Both the student representative and Beck shuffled their documents with deliberate noise. Beside me, Xander kept attempting to intertwine our pinkies beneath the table, his touch warm and reassuring. My eyes found Ash as he adjusted his position, and he offered me the gentlest smile, though worry shadowed his features.
"High Alpha Ironwood." The representative's voice sliced through our silent connection. Ash reluctantly shifted his attention away from me, and I fought to suppress the anxious knot forming in my throat. He acknowledged the representative with a measured nod, prompting them to arch an eyebrow with theatrical emphasis.
