The hallway shakes.
Not literally. The walls don’t move. But something shifts in the air, the pressure drops the way it does before a storm when the sky goes dark and the birds stop singing at the same time. The two teachers look up from where they’re crouched near the supply closet door and their faces go white.
I know he’s here before I turn around. The bond announces him like a weather front, a wall of something enormous and electric that hits me in the chest and keeps going. And he is an Alpha, that speaks for itself.
Nick is in the hallway. He’s not walking. Walking is what people do. He is storming through, his anger filling the air. His eyes find me on the floor with Mia and his face does something I will never be able to describe, no matter how many times I replay this moment.
