JANAYAH

The air didn’t move.

No one breathed.

Alpha Michael’s words hung in the room like a thick, poisonous fog, and for a heartbeat I felt like I was back in Dark Valley—small, shaking, waiting for someone to drag me by my hair for breathing too loudly.

But then…I felt it.

Mace’s rage.

It didn’t erupt—not yet. But it coiled in the air around him, tightening like a storm refusing to be ignored. His scent, normally deep and grounding, sharpened into something colder. His whole body went so still it was terrifying.

I didn’t dare look at him.

I didn’t dare look anywhere except at my own hands gripping the...