Boreas growled again.
The sound was low enough to vibrate through the quiet corridor, nothing like the impatient rumble he used when someone refused to open a door quickly enough. His enormous body had gone rigid between Dean and Arion, black-brown fur raised along his shoulders while his attention remained fixed entirely on Arion.
Dean straightened.
"Boreas."
One ear flicked toward him.
The dog did not move.
Arion stood several steps away beneath the warm corridor lights, one hand still half raised from where he had been holding Dean's waist. Confusion had replaced his earlier smile.
He had known Boreas for twenty-two years.
Arion had been eight when the enormous dog had entered his life, still young enough himself that Boreas had grown alongside him rather than simply becoming another animal kept within the imperial grounds.
Boreas had guarded him through childhood.
Slept outside his rooms.
Followed him through training grounds and gardens.
