A hot breath fanned her skin, the scent of old-spice cologne wafting through her nostrils.
The addictive scent made her mouth water, and her throat gasped and clenched for water. Her eyes grew wide, ice-blue irises staring straight ahead. A groan s...
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He was livid.
He fucking was furious.
Warriors bowed and bared their necks as he stormed by, slamming the front doors of the Lycoris building open.
Furious authority radiated from him. Every living being cowered in fear as he stomped by. A tightly put-together black suit hugged his frame, and a black blouse was buttoned up all the way. The beta headed straight toward the elevators in the right hall.
"Sir, you have to sign in."
He stopped his livid strut. His muscles clenched under his suit, veins protruding under his tightened skin. Vulcan roared in his subconscious.
"Bó fntei!" [Kill them!]
He whipped his head around and stomped up to the reception desk. A young man sat behind it by himself, smelling strongly of human. He reeled back from the authority he radiated, and Vulcan's brilliant yellow eyes glared down at him.
"What did you say?" His baritone snarl rumbled from the depth of his chest.
The human receptionist trembled. "N-Nothing, Mr. Dieu." He stuttered. "Mr. Lycoris is on floor 33, sir."
Lucifer took control, and Vulcan willingly backed off.
He needed to control his temper. As Beta, he was meant to be a public figure and role model for the werewolves of Atourania—not a dictator. It didn't help that he was here for his mate.
Without another word, the beta stomped away and into the elevator. He roughly pressed the button
Turning around, he fixed his suit. A furious scowl was attached to this face; his eyebrows were creased down, and his lips were firmly shut. It was late in the evening, and he had warned Cronus of his furious arrival during breakfast before going to work.
To say he was livid was an understatement. After a few meetings and paperwork, he sped to Lycoris Headquarters for an immediate discussion with the alpha.
Who had the balls to break into River's home?
His mate?
He would scour every crevice on the planet to find who did this. It was his life's purpose to protect her, and he failed.
"Hú́ ngeihliha," Vulcan whimpered. [We failed.]
The expensive elevator quickly took him to his destination. His foot impatiently tapped on the floor until the doors slid open. Lucifer struts into the hallways with an overarching purpose, trembling employees giving way.
He could smell where Cronus was.
His scent was potent, though it helped that Vulcan was such a powerful wolf.
