I barely made it three steps down the hall before Ronan came after me.
“Ayla,” he said sharply.
I ignored him and kept walking, chest heaving, vision still blurred from rage. My wolf paced hard beneath my skin, pushing, snarling, wanting to lash out at anything in reach. I felt half shifted already, like air scraped against the inside of my ribs.
“Ayla. Stop.”
“No.”
The word echoed down the hall, louder than I intended. Warriors flinched. Someone stepped backward and pressed against the wall. Even Jonah looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor.
I lifted my chin and kept walking. Ronan reached me in two long strides.
He grabbed my waist.
I gasped, shocked, and twisted to shove him off, but he held on, not hurting me, just anchoring me in place. His hands were strong and warm,
