Syria’s POV
“You need to send me updates. You have to keep me informed,” he said, voice low and commanding. “You will reach out to this family, especially to me. I expect you to tell me everything you’re doing.”
I met his eyes, unflinching. The sharp edge of irritation sliced through my composure.
As if.
He always acted like my life belonged to him, as if my every breath required his permission. I let out a bitter, dry sigh and pushed him away.
“You know,” I said, voice laced with quiet defiance, “even if I don’t update you, you’d still send your wolf guards to follow me around and report back. Don’t pretend this is about trust.”
I shook my head slowly, feeling the weight of frustration settle in my chest like a stone. On the surface, he almost looked reluctant to let me go, like par
