Layleen
A cold chill spreads through my veins, freezing me in place. I can't tell which unsettles me more—the brutal reality that Dion, my alpha, abandoned me, or the fact that I am once again face-to-face with Ragnar, standing far too close for comfort.
"I understand you're surprised," Ragnar says, his voice measured as he takes slow, deliberate steps toward my bed. "But there's not much more to it. This is your new home now, and I am your new alpha. That's it."
He stops abruptly at the edge of the bed, his body tensing for a brief moment before he takes a half-step back, almost as if he's catching himself—remembering something. The movement is so subtle, yet unmistakable.
I frown, suddenly self-conscious. Did I do something wrong? Do I smell?
Considering everything I went through yesterday, it wouldn't be surprising if I did, but Oliver certainly didn't seem to mind sitting so close. So why is Ragnar acting like he's wary of being near me?
