POV: APHRODITE
The twins bare their teeth at Lyra, growls rumbling low in their chests, and I feel the bond flare with their aggression.
"Stop," I say, my voice cutting through the tension.
Both of them freeze, their bodies still coiled tight and ready to attack. But they obey. The bond pulses uncomfortably between us, carrying their confusion and territorial instinct.
"She's not a threat," I continue, moving forward to position myself between Lyra and the males who look ready to tear her apart.
"She followed us," Draco says, his voice tight with barely controlled aggression. "From pack lands. That makes her a threat."
"Or a spy," Lucen adds, his eyes never leaving Lyra's small frame. "The Alpha could have sent her."
