TAVIAN’S POV
My conversation with Nana lingers in my mind up until the next morning.
I work through the night to distract myself, focusing on logic and numbers, the rise and fall of business, and the smooth flow of pack matters—things that make sense to me.
Yet, every few hours, Nana’s words echo in my mind again: children.
With Briar?
Never.
Maybe once, when things were different and she was still here, I entertained the idea of having a litter of children running around, but all those dreams died with Irene.
I’m distracted yet again, staring at a page in my file for a second too long, and I curse under my breath.
If only Nana hadn’t brought up the topic, I would be able to focus on what’s important now.
A knock echoes from my door, and I’m instantly grateful for the distrac
