For a long moment, no one moved.
The echo of Adam's power still hummed in the room, thick as fog.
Sylvia's wolf stayed low inside her, ears flat, staring at him with stunned recognition.
Alpha, it whispered.
Higher.
More.
Beta Gray's breathing had gone rough.
His hand, the one Adam had just released, hung stiff at his side.
Color drained slowly from his face, leaving his jaw clenched, eyes sharp with a new kind
of wariness.
“Who are you?" he asked again, this time quieter.
Adam's aura fell back like a tide, leaving only the man standing there in plain clothes,
hands open, expression mild.
“I told you," he said.
“Adam Black.
A traveler.
Someone who doesn't like seeing injured women slapped." “You overstep," Beta Gray said,
regaining bite in his tone.
“This is my daughter.
