Milroy was able to easily detect the turmoil in his pack leader's heart.
To be very honest, the younger man thought that Ronan was a little dumb.
Instead of taking the initiative to make a call or send Lucien a text message, he waited and waited like a desperate teenage girl.
Milroy's fingers itched terribly.
He would love to call the Luna himself and tell him that the Alpha was suffering from a mysterious affliction that made him unable to think about anything else but his beloved mate.
A soft ding announced a text message from Jake to Milroy.
"How is the Alpha?" the Beta asked.
"Reporting to the Beta: still downtrodden," Milroy typed freely.
He could almost hear the Beta sigh a few floors away.
Twenty-four hours had passed since Lucien left the pack house, and Ronan emerged at the company headquarters with dark shadows under his eyes. He looked scary and miserable at the same time.
