Evander's POV
The air outside was heavy, stale with the scent of iron and sun-warmed stone. I stood beneath the shade just beyond the café, the murmur of voices and clinking cups bleeding through the glass behind me. The quiet should have calmed me. It didn't.
My wolf was pacing. Again.
You need to stop, I told him, jaw tightening as the faint sound of Odette's laughter floated through the air. I could almost see her—head tilted, lips curved around a straw. My pulse responded like a damn traitor.
Stop reacting.
Inside, my wolf growled, low and rough, pressing against the edges of my control. You hear her too.
"I said stop," I muttered under my breath. "She means nothing. She's human. Weak. Blind."
Mine.
The word slammed through my skull, a snarl that made the veins in my neck pulse.
