Moments later, a tall, commanding figure rode in and reined his horse to a halt before the crowd. The air changed. It thickened, pressed down, and every wolf in that gathering felt it at once. A dominance so absolute it settled over the crowd like a sudden frost, forcing shoulders to drop and gazes to the ground before a single word was spoken. The scent hit me a breath later: black pine and winter stone and something sharp beneath it, like ozone before lightning strikes.
When he spoke, his voice was cold enough to freeze the air.
"Insolent fools!"
"What do you think you're doing?"
