I don’t answer him right away, because the moment feels suspended in a way that makes sound dangerous, and because my wolf is pressed so tight against my skin that every instinct is screaming at once, alert and defensive and painfully aware of exactly who stands on the other side of that door. The guard hasn’t moved, which tells me more than his presence ever could, and the quiet between heartbeats stretches until it feels deliberate rather than accidental.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I say finally, my voice low and steady despite the way my pulse is racing.
“I’m exactly where I’m allowed to be,” my Alpha replies, his tone calm and controlled, and the restraint in it makes my stomach twist because this is the voice he uses when he’s already decided how a situation will end. “Neutra
