Owen's eyes gleamed with mischief as he refused to release my arm. "Come on, little maid. It's just a bit of harmless fun. You're the perfect judge—delicate, pretty, and..." His gaze slid down my body in a way that made my skin crawl. "Clearly in need of some entertainment."
"Please," I tried again, tugging at my arm. "I really need to deliver this letter."
"After," he insisted. "David and I have been arguing for weeks about who's the strongest. We need an impartial judge, and you're it."
A cold shiver ran down my spine when the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. The atmosphere shifted in an instant—the laughter and jeers of the gathered Lycans dying out like flames doused in ice water.
Then I heard it—the low, menacing growl that had become disturbingly familiar. The sound vibrated through the air, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
