Sofia didn't flinch. She reached for a paper towel and dried her hands with slow, composed movements. She looked at Elena's reflection in the mirror, her eyes cold. "If you are that important to Damien," Sofia said, her voice thick with mockery, "you shouldn't have to follow his mate into a bathroom just to feel powerful."
Elena's face contorted with rage. In a flash of Alpha speed, she reached out and grabbed a handful of Sofia's hair, jerking her head back. Sofia's wolf howled in her mind, a roar of white-hot power that wanted to tear Elena's throat out.
Let me out! Her wolf screamed. She will pay for touching us!
But Sofia pushed the power down, burying it deep. She knew Elena only saw a plus-sized, "normal" wolf—a weak link in Damien's life. If she shifted or showed her true strength now, the Rogue King's spies and everyone in the restaurant would know she was the White Wolf. She had to play the victim a little longer.
