Riana had only stepped away for five minutes.
Five minutes to breathe, to fix the faint crease in her dress, to wash the lingering tension from her hands after smiling too long for cameras and answering questions that were never really questions. There were only traps wrapped in politeness. “Urgh”
The corridor outside the ladies’ room was quieter, carpeted in muted gold, the hum of press voices fading behind thick doors.
That was when she sensed it.
The air shifted… heavy, territorial. It made her stop mid-step.
Four men… strong werewolves stood ahead of her.
One of them she recognised instantly.
Borga. Her father’s beta.
Tall. Broad. Scar slicing through one eyebrow like a permanent sneer. He stood squarely in her path, arms folded, flanked by three others who sp
