The door to the guest wing didn't just open; it was annihilated. The heavy oak frame, reinforced with iron and centuries of history, splintered into a thousand jagged shards under the kinetic violence of Cassian’s shoulder. The massive mahogany dresser Leo had dragged to bar the entrance was shoved aside like a balsa-wood toy, the wood shrieking against the stone floor as it was cast into the far wall.
Cassian stood in the threshold, a silhouette of raw, vibrating fury and desperation. His chest heaved, his shirt was torn, and his eyes were no longer human. They were twin vortices of molten gold, burning with a light that threatened to incinerate the very air. But the moment he crossed the threshold, the world stopped breathing. The roar in his blood silenced. The wolf in his soul fell in
