SELENE
As soon as the conference room door shut behind the last person, Tristan turned away from me and started pacing, his steps heavy, his hands flexing into fists at his sides.
The muscles in his back tensed beneath his black shirt, the fabric stretching as if it could barely contain the force of his anger.
I frowned as I watched him, confusion etched on my face. What was going on?
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. His sudden tension made no sense.
He didn’t answer me, instead his strides became even more agitated as he moved back and forth across the room. Every few steps, his claws slipped out, his control fraying.
Then, as suddenly as he had started pacing, he whirled toward me with a low, guttural snarl.
“Did you sleep with Lucas?” he spat at me, his
