Third Person's POV
The air suddenly turned cold. Someone gasped.
"Estelle!" he roared. "Don't take this too far! Nothing happened between us! I was just passing by—to save you—what's wrong with a little joke?!"
"A joke?" Estelle stepped forward. "You used a joke—to touch my leg?"
He froze. "I was just checking to see if you were hurt—"
"Shut up."
Estelle no longer looked at him. There was no need to.
Everyone in the room had already sensed the truth.
Wolves aren't fooled by words. And scents never lie.
The way they looked at James had changed—no longer doubtful, but disgusted.
Anthea stood to the side, frozen in place. Her scent was chaotic, laced with shock, fear, and… regret.
Finally, a deep, authoritative voice came through the speaker on the other end of the line. "Enough."
