Beau quickly closed the distance between us, his face a canvas painted with a mixture of awe and disbelief. He kept casting nervous glances over his shoulder, where Emma’s friends were rushing to help her regain her footing, but I deliberately focused my gaze straight ahead, unwilling to acknowledge the chaos unfolding behind us.
“Alright. I have to ask,” he began, his voice tinged with both genuine curiosity and a hint of uncertainty. His eyebrows knitted together slightly, creating creases on his forehead. “You’ve been living among humans for three years. How the hell do you know how to fight like that?”
I tilted my head, letting a playful eyebrow arch in response. “Do you really think all werewolves live in packs?”
“I know rogues don’t,” he replied slowly, each word weighing a littl
