The hall remained silent.
Not because anyone was afraid to speak.
Because nobody knew who should speak first.
Denise stood between Liam and the shattered floor, trying to process the last ten minutes.
Son.
The ancient man had called Liam his son.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
Directly.
And somehow that revelation wasn’t even the strangest thing happening anymore.
The servants remained motionless.
Their eyes lowered.
Their posture deferential.
Not toward Liam.
Toward her.
Denise noticed immediately.
And this time she was tired of pretending she didn’t.
“What are they doing?”
No one answered.
Liam’s father did.
“They’re acknowledging rank.”
Denise frowned.
“What rank?”
The old wolf’s gaze settled on her calmly.
“The one you inherited.”
A chill traveled down h
