Golden Glade die with memories, not dreams

Embry had been calming his nerves since before the female first arrived. Throughout the evening he had resorted to a peaceful motive, and not once did he even dare to attack. He was not scared to fight with the Alphess, nor was he even that apprehensive when he had first seen her hostility. But when she aimed for Feyre, all primordial attempts any former constitution was lost. His lips parted to reveal the fangs beneath, a husky growl escaping his throat.

     "Don't - Touch - Her." He leapt forward, golden coat streaking across the clearing as he moved to intercept. He wasn't too fast, but it didn't matter. He just needed to keep that crazy tempest away from his... from Feyre. He skidded in between the two, flanks heaving from the sudden rush of adrenaline, and ushered Feyre to get moving. His gaze halted upon Jhala with quiet, seething anger. She was no leader. She couldn't even tell the good ones from the rest. Maybe because she simply was not one.

     "I don't know what this pack has for you - be it loyalty or some unforeseen fear-inspired respect - but I do know that this is just wrong. I haven't done anything to you. And Feyre... She especially hasn't earned this. She's worked hard to gain your respect, while you did nothing to even deserve her's. If you can let one wolf take away two possible benefits to your pack, I'd hate to see what a better pack could do to you."