His expression shifted in an instant.
Emma's gaze snapped toward the wolves, sharp and unblinking. Her hand lifted, finger locking onto one figure dressed in a black suit.
"It's him," she said.
The he-wolf's hand is already slipping inside his jacket, fingers closing around the grip of a gun.
A scream cuts through the air. Panic ripples outward as wolves shove and scatter.
Before the panic fully breaks, Brandon moves.
His arm closes around Emma in a single, decisive motion, pulling her tight against him as he pivots, placing his wolf squarely between hers and the threat. The shift is seamless, instinctive, his presence hardening, filling the space with quiet authority.
"Stay behind me," he says, his voice low but unyielding, carrying cleanly through the rising chaos. Mark came just in time and guided her to safety.
