The Alpha’s laughter finally faded as he stood to take his leave, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway of the new lodge.
Elena, ever the dutiful hostess, fluttered after him to the front door, her voice a high-pitched melody of gratitude and false humility.
Aria stayed rooted in the corner of the dining hall, her chest heaving with a shallow, ragged breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Liam remained at the head of the table. He didn't move.
He sat with his head bowed, staring at the empty ceramic plate that had held the food Aria had slaved over.
The silence in the room was heavy, thick with the scent of the honey glaze and the metallic tang of the tension between them.
Aria moved like a ghost, her boots silent on the polished floor as she began to clear the table.
