She had been on the verge of throwing herself into his arms, but the cold, distant look in his eyes stopped her mid-step, freezing her where she stood.
"What a shameless mate you have, Alpha Gérard. She dragged me aside and practically threw herself at me," Félix sneered, his voice laced with venom.
The accusation struck her like a blow. For a moment, it felt as though her heart had simply… stopped.
Her fingers curled tightly into fists at her sides as she struggled to steady herself, to rein in the rising panic clawing at her chest. Breathing became difficult sharp, shallow, insufficient.
Gérard moved then, striding toward her with a dangerous, measured pace. She instinctively stepped back, flinching, but he caught her forearm and yanked her forward. His icy gaze swept over her face, lingering on the bruise blooming across her cheek and the split in her lip.
His grip tightened, drawing a pained wince from her then abruptly loosened as he turned his attention to Félix.
