Evander's POV
Everything moved too fast and not fast enough.
The smell of blood thickened, burning the air as more of my men fell. Their growls turned to choked cries; claws scraped tile one last time before bodies hit the floor. My wolf was snapping, snarling, pushing against my ribs like he wanted to rip out of me.
"Get her out."
My voice came out lower than human. Not a shout — a command. Cold. Final. The kind that left no room for breath, let alone argument.
The surviving wolves reacted instantly. They tightened formation around Odette and Mara, a wall of muscle and fur shielding them from every direction.
I could feel her pressed against me — shaking, alive, her scent a trembling storm of fear and salt. Her hands clung to my shirt, nails digging into my chest like she'd forgotten she hated me, like every instinct in her body was telling her I was safety.
And gods help me at that moment, I didn't want her to let go.
