Kaelan froze in the doorway, his chest heaving, his blue eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. He was coated in grime and smelled heavily of pine, sweat, and fresh, coppery blood that wasn't his.
"That," Kaelan growled, taking a predatory step toward the bed, "is not an acceptable response from a Mate."
"And that," Anya countered, pushing herself into a sitting position, "is not an acceptable way to treat your asset. You destroyed my office and left a forensic nightmare." Her fear was muffled by the protective shell of defiance.
He was less than a meter from her, overwhelming her with his intensity. "You will address me as Alpha. Now, tell me why you were awake when I commanded rest."
The Alpha Command didn't hit her hard enough to force obedience, but it sent a sickening jolt through the bond. She fought it. "I was waiting for you to clean up your mess."
Before Kaelan could retaliate, the door to the office burst open. Zara, the Beta, rushed in, followed by a nervous-looking human man in medical scrubs. "Alpha! You're injured, let the Doctor examine you immediately."
Kaelan let out a frustrated snarl, his focus ripping away from Anya. He was wounded and distracted. Anya watched the scene, absorbing everything: Kaelan was vulnerable, and the pack controlled his recovery. She used the moment to sit up straight, maintaining her gaze on the dominant Lycan, a silent promise of war in her blue eyes.