Cain.
I wasn’t expecting the sudden outburst from the Lycan prince.
It came without warning, sharp and precise, like a striking fang I hadn’t seen coming. One moment I was moving to steady her, to brush a loose strand of hair from her face, and the next, my hand was swept away, pulled aside as though it had never belonged there. I froze instantly, my fingers lingering in midair, useless, suspended between intent and reality.
My chest tightened, not with anger, surprisingly, but with a sharp, inexplicable stab of unease that shot straight through me. It wasn’t just his hand, or the movement, or even the interruption itself. It was the authority in the way he had acted.
The absolute control in his stance. The unflinching way he positioned himself between her and anyone else. The way his
