The narrow hallway became a wind tunnel of predatory intent. Dante’s lunge was a blur of charcoal fabric and silver fur, a physical manifestation of an Alpha's absolute territorial claim. Astra didn’t retreat; she dropped her center of gravity, the soles of her boots squeaking on the linoleum.
Dante’s claws, thick, curved talons that could shear through a vault door slashed the air exactly where Astra’s throat had been a millisecond prior. The force of the swipe sent a gust of wind that nearly knocked Silas over.
"Dante, stop!" Astra’s voice was a command, but in his Primal Claim state, the word 'stop' was just noise.
He spun with animal fluidity, his massive shoulders rippling. His crimson eyes were locked on her, but there was no recognition in them. He didn't see the woman who had sh
