Before I could answer, Elias spoke. “Pressuring her like that is outdated, don’t you think?”
The room fell silent. All eyes turned to him.
Benedict tensed beside me, his hands curling into fists. “This is none of your business.”
Elias smirked, leaning against the fireplace. “Everything about this pack is my business.”
I swallowed hard. Elias’s gaze flickered to me again, and for a moment, I thought I saw something in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? Pity? I couldn’t tell.
Benedict grabbed my arm, his grip firm. “Come on. Tell them.”
I yanked free. “Don’t touch me.”
A hush fell over the room. The elders exchanged glances, some disapproving, others intrigued. Benedict’s grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Felicia—”
“I’m tired,” I interrupted. “I’ll excuse myself.”
Without waiting for permission, I turned and walked away. I could feel their eyes on me, feel Benedict’s fury burning through my back. But I didn’t care.
As I stepped into the dim hallway, I heard footsteps behind me. A strong hand caught my wrist—not rough like Benedict’s, but firm, steady.
I turned and saw Elias, my heart pounding. His grip was gentle, his eyes unreadable. “You need to leave,” he murmured.
My breath caught. “What?”