Aaron's POV

Erikson stands in my office doorway, shifting his weight like he's forgotten how to stand still.

"Alpha, I..." He clears his throat. "About the leave request."

I glance up from the stack of reports on my desk. The man looks uncomfortable—more than usual, which for Erikson is saying something. He's wearing a new jacket, I notice. Dark gray, well-fitted. Not his typical work attire.

"The wedding," I say, not a question.

Relief crosses his face. "Yes. Wendy's family wants to ...