(Third Person POV).
Dennis opened his mouth to say something else—undoubtedly another teasing remark—but he snapped it shut when he caught the darkening shadow approaching behind Meredith.
Draven.
His steps were smooth, measured, but the tension in his shoulders was visible to anyone who cared enough to look.
His gaze was locked not on Dennis, but briefly on Meredith—assessing, unreadable—before shifting to his brother.
Dennis straightened like a guilty schoolboy but wore a crooked smile to mask it.
"Brother," he greeted lightly.
Draven didn't answer. instead, he turned to Meredith. His cold gray eyes locked with hers for a moment that stretched too long, too heavy.
Meredith refused to drop her gaze. If he expected her to shrink away just because he was Alpha, he would be sorely disappointed.
Already, she was mad at him, at least he shouldn't try to provoke her any further.
