Tristan
Bianca's voice rose again, having caught my scent.
"Tristan? Tristan, I know you're there! You can't do this to me! We had an agreement!"
"We never had any agreement," I muttered, more to myself than to Derek or Lucas. "Stay here," I instructed them both. "I'll handle this alone." Lucas frowned.
"Alpha, I don't think-"
"That's an order, Lucas," I cut him off. "I need to make some things very clear to her, and I don't need an audience for it."
I strode down the corridor toward Bianca's voice, my footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The holding cells were rarely used, mostly for newly turned werewolves during their first few shifts, when they couldn't control their wolves yet. They were secure but humane, with proper beds and facilities. Not that Bianca would appreciate s
