Ace begins to rise. His chair screeches back against the polished lobby floor. His grin sharpens as he rolls his shoulders, like he's seconds away from stepping into Darien's space.
But Lucan finally moves. He doesn't even shift his stance fully. He just lifted a hand to stop his friend. "Cut it out, Ace."
The command in his tone is soft but weighted, enough to stop Ace in his tracks. The latter mutters under his breath but collapses back into his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.
With that, Darien doesn't give him the satisfaction of a second glance. He proceeds to walk past them, shoulders square, and eyes forward.
And Isolde? She's still nailed to the floor by the weight of Nash's stare. Her wolf is literally somersaulting in her chest.
"We have to claim him before your sister finds out, Isolde. We can't lose our mate!"
