While walking down the hall toward the courtyard, Nevaeh noticed Aron’s palm begin to get sweaty within hers as well as his breathing increase. His eyes, which were glued to the floor, dodged aimlessly around. His discomfort was enough for her to pull him to a standstill, take his other hand, and wait for him to find the courage to look at her. This mighty man, this powerful Lycan, looked like he was going to crumble, and she felt guilty for forcing him to do something he was obviously not ready for.
“Aron, look at me,” she said softly. When he finally did, his eyes were riding with so much panic that even her own stomach gutted. “Why does your father have so much power over you?” Can I even put a dent in that?
Despite the din down the hall, a thick silence hovered between th
