The Cry of a Lycan
Butler Grey’s face paled.
“Badly, Alpha.”
That single word was enough to make Zaden go still, the air around him seemed to go frigid.
In one fluid motion, he rose from his chair, the leather seat creaking softly behind him.
His expression remained unreadable, but the air around him tightened, going taut with each passing second.
Butler Grey was the first to descend the staircase, his steps light and his hands clasped neatly behind his back. His tailored charcoal suit hung sharply over his broad frame, and the silver ring on his index finger gleamed in the candlelight.
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