"I was the one who kept my distance," Yuki said, her voice steady despite the tension coiling thickly around her. "It was him who continued to approach me."
There was no tremor in her tone. No hesitation. Only truth—blunt and unadorned.
Had Selene not known that Yuki was the female lead of this wretchedly predictable narrative, she might have admired her without reservation.
Yuki did not yet feel the mate bond. Her wolf lay dormant—sleeping deep within her blood, unawakened, silent. No scent of a shifted she-wolf clung to her skin. No power stirred in her veins.
But she knew.
She knew the bond existed.
And Roger felt it.
Even if Yuki did not.
That, it seemed, was enough to ignite fury.
A low ripple of growls spread through the gathered she-wolves. Shoulders stiffened. Nails sharpened into claws with faint cracking sounds. Their patience thinned to something brittle and dangerous. They were not moments away from reprimand—
