Lucian had found it weird.
Beating up a Southern Pac werewolf with no hesitation as soon as he'd seen the man—with an alpha's scent—raise that dagger at Blue Emmetson, hugging Blue Emmetson like they were something more than just two mere acquaintances at most, cradling the human against his chest in a tender fashion when her whole body was engulfed with cries of fear, relief, exhaustion, and all the other emotions Blue Emmetson his within the bags under her eyes and the paleness of her lips.
Lucian had found all of it weird—how he had done those things, and hadn't felt any distaste or obligation.
Yes, he had been the one to save Blue, and when the girl ended up crying he was the only one there to comfort her. But Lucian had not found it the slightest bit bothersome.
In fact, he had
