Grayson’sPOV

My phone buzzes on the nightstand like a goddamn hornet, ripping me from the shallow edge of sleep. I groan, scrubbing a hand over my face, the clock glowing 2:17 AM in accusatory red. Who the fuck calls this late? Erikson knows better. Logan too. My wolf stirs, Arthur's low growl vibrating through my chest before I even grab the damn thing.

The screen lights up: Willie.

I swipe to answer, voice gravel-rough. "This better be life or ...