Scarlett’s POV

I wake to the smell of magnolia and nerves.

The entire estate hums like a hive—maids darting with silver trays, wolves in tuxedos barking orders, and the distant thump of bass from the ballroom being sound-checked. Killian’s grandfather is coming. The whole pack is buzzing about it.

I’m in the east wing, pretending to read a leather-bound book on pack law while eavesdropping on two betas polishing silver in the hallway.

“Old Alpha Knight always brings the heirloom,” ...