Ryven exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting from the child to the others gathered in the room. What was meant to be a simple retrieval had unraveled into something far more troublesome. First the wolves, now a werebear—and not just any, but one bold enough to insert himself without hesitation. His grip tightened slightly at his side before loosening again. This was already turning into a hassle… and they hadn't even left yet.
"It's not up to me to decide—"
"If I can't go, then she can't." Paulo declared, as if the decision had ever been his to make.
Ryven frowned imperceptibly. It felt like striking cotton—no resistance, yet no progress. He could not find any headway with the werebear, who could lose his temper at any moment and wreck havoc. His expression darkened, a trace of displeasure settling in.
