"Do you have a car?" Elliot's voice cut through my thoughts like a low growl, his tone sharp, measured—an Alpha assessing his pack.
"I'll call a cab," I replied, keeping my own tone firm. I wasn't about to bend to his dominance so easily, even if my instincts buzzed under the surface.
"The roads will be closed. Cabs won't get through," he countered, his words carrying the weight of authority and an unspoken warning.
I frowned but didn't back down. "That's fine. I'll just walk over to the hotel." My tone was unwavering, Alpha meeting Alpha in a subtle clash of wills.
He let out a low, almost frustrated growl. "I've never seen a woman as stubborn as you."
"Well, you've met me now. I'll end the call. I'm busy." I didn't wait for a response and ended the call. Even within the Presgrave pack, few dared to speak to Elliot this way. Few had the instinctive courage—or the audacity—to push back against him.
