Zeke's POV
The heavy oak dining table groaned under the weight of untouched food, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. Plates clinked, and silverware scraped, but I barely heard any of it. My foot tapped an impatient rhythm beneath the table, the sound drowned by the murmuring voices of the pack's higher ranks.
I was waiting.
Waiting for the i***t, Neo had sent upstairs to return with Sky. Leon had never been the sharpest tool in the shed; he was clumsy, slow and overindulged in the luxuries he had inherited and coasted through pack ranking thanks to Daddy's title and standing. But we all knew he was a polished turd.
Waiting to hear the inevitable crashing, the screaming match that would follow, the fire that always erupted between those two when they
