Harlow couldn't look him in the eyes.
His wolf was frightened, and more than anything, he wanted to run out of this place, far from Ian's presence.
But he stood still, frozen like ice.
He had no excuses.
"You knew something was wrong, yet you didn't call me," Ian said, voice low and dangerous. "Did you want her to get hurt—"
"NO!" Harlow quickly shook his head. "No, sir, I would never do that. I knew something was off, but I was trying to be sure. I was looking for a way to get inside, to find her. That's why I couldn't call you right away. I would never want Ms. Sorin hurt."
"Why wouldn't you?" Ian questioned, tone changing, sharp and suspicious.
"I like her."
Like? Every fiber of his being—his wolf reacted to Harlow's Words. He had him shoved to the wall in seconds, fingers wrapping around his throat.
"Say that again," he growled.
"It's not like that!" Harlow gasped, tapping frantically at his wrist. "I-I don't like her like that. It's not like that, sir!"
