LIAM’S P.O.V.
The walk back from the dungeons felt longer than usual.
Maybe it was the smell of blood still clinging to my shirt, or the memory of Ethan’s face when I dropped the bomb about Irene. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. To be fair, he had.
By the time I made it to the war room, Jake was already there, leaning against the table like he hadn’t been pacing ten minutes earlier. Carlos stood near the map, eating what had to be his third apple of the morning. And Zach? Zach was by the window again, his arms crossed too tightly, his jaw clenched the way it always was when something was bothering him.
He barely acknowledged me when I walked in.
Noted.
I closed the door behind me. “He didn’t talk.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Shocking.”
“He’s scared, though,” I added. “The mention o
