Chapter 7. Alpha Jordan

*Maddox*

“Alpha Jordan?” I say, eyeing the man across from me and wondering what he’s doing in my office when we are meant to have dinner in less than two hours. “What is it that you need?”

He looks at me and a small chuckle escapes his lips as he rubs his chin with a fist. He’s at least twenty-five years my senior, maybe more, and it’s easy to tell. His hair is gray, his face is wrinkled, and he looks worn—tired.

Will I look like that in a couple of decades?

Being an Alpha takes its toll.

Being an Alpha King is worse.

“Thank you for seeing me, Alpha Maddox,” he begins, withdrawing his hand from his mouth. “I do appreciate you letting us stay here for a few nights. Traveling all the way through the kingdom is tiresome.”

“Of course,” I say, folding my hands on my desk. He still hasn’t answered my question. I am a patient man until I am not.

He clears his throat. “I guess I should get straight to the point, then?” he says, that rumbling