They’d been translating Moira’s grimoire for two hours when the screaming started.
Selene’s head snapped up. “What-”
Dorian was already moving, his body shifting into that preternatural alertness that meant his wolf was at the surface. “Stay here.”
“Like hell.”
He shot her a look that would’ve made lesser people wet themselves, but Selene just stared back, arms crossed. Through the bond, she could feel his frustration he wanted her safe, tucked away where nothing could touch her. But they both knew she wasn’t going to listen.
“Fine,” he bit out. “But stay behind me, and if I tell you to run, you run.”
“Sure, yeah, I’ll definitely do that.”
His jaw clenched, but there was no time to argue. The screaming was getting louder, accompanied now by snarls and the unmistakable sound of wolve
