Adriel POV
"Get your hands off me, Luka," Novalee snaps, her voice cutting through the damp air of the courtyard.
I lean against the cold stone pillar, crossing my arms over my chest. I do not lift a finger to intervene. Novalee gives me a sharp, flashing look that says everything. She wants to handle this punishment herself. I give her a slow nod, stepping back to let her take the lead.
Luka stumbles backward, his boots skidding on the wet tarmac. Mitchell, Robert, and Ian form a heavy wall behind him, blocking his path toward the main gates. My father and Uncle Jethro stand a few feet away under the stone archway. Neither of them looks impressed. Their faces are hard, their jaws set tight in the grey morning light.
"What is the meaning of this?" Dad yells, his deep voice rattling the
