The old alpha gave Dean exactly one opportunity to obey.
"This is a restricted zone!"
Dean remained where he was.
Thirty meters separated them, enough distance that the alpha's pheromones still rolled freely through the forest, carrying the unmistakable command of a dominant who expected people to listen the first time.
Dean did not so much as shift his weight.
The man's expression changed.
He stopped looking at Dean as if he were an inconvenient royal who had wandered away from the protected trail and started looking at him like an intruder who had chosen the wrong property.
His hand dropped to the knife at his hip.
Dean watched the blade come free.
That was better than the firearm Dean could now see beneath the back of the man's coat. Gunfire would bring every guard around the residence toward them, and apparently the alpha had exactly the same concern.
The man started forward.
