Elliot stepped out of the director's office with the faint curve of satisfaction still resting on his lips, like an Alpha who had quietly secured another piece of territory without resistance. His gaze slid to me briefly before he spoke.
"If you're ever not available," he said calmly, "I can pick Jared up."
The offer wasn't casual. It carried weight—an extension of authority, of presence, of insertion into my daily life as if it were already shared ground.
And strangely… it made sense.
He was right. In a pack, no one relied on a single thread of responsibility. There was always backup. Always structure.
"If it's not too much trouble," I replied slowly, testing the boundary rather than rejecting it outright.
Elliot's eyes lifted slightly. "Anything you think might trouble me," he said, voice steady and low, "is nothing to me."
The words landed like instinctive truth. Not boastful. Not exaggerated. Just Alpha certainty.
