Dean’s POV
She stepped closer, her presence tightening the air. “Tell me,” she said quietly, “how many meals did you eat today?”
“Three,” Leo answered, voice small now.
“And who cooked them?”
“…the Omegas.”
“And while you trained, sparred, joked around…” Her gaze swept the room, slow and surgical. “Who kept this place running? Who planned, set up, cooked and baked for birthdays, anniversaries, mating ceremonies and other celebrations.”
None of them spoke. After a few seconds of silence, Max continued. “Do you think it’s easy to clean the packhouse and cook for this pack?”
“How hard can it be?” Richard mumbled sarcastically.
Jason let out a low whistle. “That kid has balls.”
“It was nice knowing him,” agreed Luke.
Max didn’t flinch. Didn’t bristle. Didn’t even look irritated. Sh
