[Apple]
The only warning we receive is the flash of his glowing blue eyes.
Faster than I’ve ever seen any man run, Sylvester Sterling crosses the distance from the shadows to our apartment stoop as a gracefully dynamic force, grabbing Hawthorne by the collar and slamming him into the wall near the door.
“She is MINE!” he growls, his eyes glowing brightly enough to cast my friend’s face in harsh relief, deepening the shadows and highlighting the fear in Thorne’s eyes.
“Alpha, stop!” I shout but it’s no use. Whoever is in charge, it isn’t Sylvester Sterling, even if he is dressed like him. “He’s my friend.”
“He is an interloper,” his fangs elongate as he tilts his head to the side. “An invader. An enemy. You are MY Luna. MINE. He may not touch what is mine.”
"Sylvester, look at me.
