Reigniting old memories, Arshad eyed Olivare with an unwelcome familiarity that brought both pleasant heat and an uncomfortable tightness to her chest. She bared her teeth, an alpha reminding dominance. When he smiled, lips twisting smugly, Olivare tightened her grip on the unstrung bow, and struck him, hard, across the face.
Blood sprayed as Arshad convulsed sideways, nearly toppling the chair. His anger flared visibly, but quickly vanished into the controlled refulgence of his gold eyes. “I would have left you alone.”
“The Tantaira have opened the Bore.”
Olivare hissed, fingers curling unbidden into a ward against evil.
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: alpha, convulse, refulgent)