Nolan's POV
The word “b***h” had barely left Falicity’s lips when the room froze.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed the way only seasoned Alphas could manage: calm, lethal. His son, Cassian, went rigid in his chair, his jaw flexing as he leaned forward with a sharpness that barely restrained violence.
“b***h?” Alaric repeated, his voice so low and even it was more dangerous than a shout. “Divorce?”
Felicity, to her credit, or maybe to her ignorance, looked confused for a second too long. Her bright red dress seemed suddenly too loud for the muted tones of the meeting room. She blinked, finally noticing the tension as if it had just dropped from the ceiling and landed on her shoulders.
“I—I didn’t realize you had company,” she stammered, smoothing down the front of her dress as if that would fix
