Liam's POV
The air was thick inside the room, heavy with tension that only seemed to become more oppressive with each ticking second. I walked back and forth along the length of the chamber, my boots booming on the wooden floor in a nervous cadence. Despite how much I tried to think, to reason, to guess at what Steven's next step would be, I just kept running into a wall. It was infuriating.
Why hadn't he arrived yet?
He ought to have burst in by now, blinded with rage, ravenous for revenge. I had provided him with reason. I had murdered his sister, razed his pack, and left him dying, both body and spirit. If there was one thing I knew about Steven, it was that he never let an insult pass unrequited. And yet—nothing.
The silence was more frightening than any war cry.
The weight of my own mind rested on me like a threatening storm cloud ready to burst. My fingers tapped in annoyance, and I folded them so hard into fists that my nails bit into the palms of my hands. I yearned for answer
