Marcella POV
The two enforcers do not let me walk. They grip my elbows so hard the skin under my sleeves turns white.
My toes scrape against the dark floorboards as they haul me down the corridor.
They do not open the doors to my brother's office. They throw them wide so the handles crash into the plaster walls.
I stumble forward. My boots slide on the polished oak.
The door slams behind me. The lock clicks into place with a heavy metallic snap.
The air in the room is thick. It tastes like copper and cold grease.
Alpha pressure rolls off the man behind the desk in suffocating waves. It hits my skin like freezing fog.
My inner wolf drops its ears. It cowers in the dark corners of my mind.
I lift my chin anyway. I swallow the lump of acid rising in my throat.
Julian sits behind the
