Third Person's POV
The metal doors of the VIP elevator slid open.
The Dean and Assistant Dean of the University Hospital rushed out, tailing a man closely.
Their nerves were fried. Being this close to him triggered a primal werewolf instinct that made their skin crawl and their breath hitch in tiny, frantic shudders.
The man wore a dark, impeccably tailored bespoke suit that made his lean frame look even more imposing.
He had a sickly paleness to him—the kind that made him look noble and fragile—but underneath that calm exterior was a suffocating sense of aggression.
It was the crushing weight of an Alpha's aura. Even as he tried to dial it back, the sharp scent of cedarwood cut through the hallway like a blade.
When he was silent, he looked like a cold, exquisite classical statue.
