The crowd quiets, sensing the shift. Mathias straightens, his arm sliding protectively around the boys. My blood boils.
“Adeline,” I say, my voice low, dangerous. “You’re a long way from the border.”
She lifts her chin, not backing down. “It’s a festival. Thought the boys would enjoy it.”
“Enjoy it?” I step closer, my wolf’s growl bleeding into my words. “With him?”
Mathias meets my stare, his green eyes calm but sharp. “Problem, Your Majesty?” His voice is polite, but it’s a challenge. Elf or not, he’s not scared of me. That’s a mistake.
“Are you sure you belong here?,” I asked, each word a warning.
The older boy tugs at Mathias’s sleeve, frowning. “Who’s he, Pops?”
Pops?. Again. My vision blurs red. Adeline steps between us, her scent hitting me harder now, her heat a pulse I can’
