The air in the dungeon didn't just turn cold; it became a vacuum. Lucien's presence was a physical weight, a crushing gravity that made the oxygen feel like lead. He didn't roar. He didn't scream. The silence he brought into the room was the silence of an executioner.
He watched Gwen's hand slide slowly off Kaelen's chest. He watched the silver light—that beautiful, alien glow—fade from her skin as she pulled back from the bars. Every inch of distance she put between herself and the Crimsonfang Alpha was a fresh insult to Lucien's pride, because it proved she had been close enough to touch him in the first place.
"Alpha, listen to me—" Gwen started, her voice trembling.
Lucien moved.
