Instantly, Elliot's presence shifted. I felt it before I even turned—his jealousy flaring like a territorial instinct snapping awake. The air around him grew heavier, charged with dominance and something rawer underneath. Was I really being perceived as someone shifting between bonds, as if my loyalty could be pulled so easily by Alex's proximity?
"Stop right there, Anastasia."
His voice cut through the space behind me, sharp and laced with suppressed anger. It wasn't just a call—it carried Alpha pressure, a command that made the surrounding air tighten as if the pack itself reacted to his mood.
I turned slowly. Elliot stood a few steps away, his posture rigid, eyes darkened with an intensity I hadn't seen in days. There was something unbalanced in his aura, like restraint barely holding instinct in check.
"May I help you, President Presgrave?" I asked evenly, though my chest had already tightened.
