Arthur Green’s eyes snapped away from me as the heavy, suffocating aura of two apex predators rolled over the paved courtyard.
Ryder closed the distance first, his massive frame coming to a halt directly beside me, his broad shoulder brushing mine as he deliberately positioned himself between my father and me. Dante followed a heartbeat later, moving with the quiet, chilling precision of an executioner as he stepped up on my other side, completely boxing me in.
The contrasting scents—pine, cedar, and the sharp, freezing bite of winter ozone—flooded the open air, clashing violently with my father’s stale, bitter-ash Beta scent.
Father’s gaze darted between the two of them, his grey eyes widening in sudden, disbelieving recognition. Even for a high-ranking Beta of the Bloodmoon pack, stan
