ZEVIAR
I felt it before he even spoke. Orion. Thirty-five years he’d been the one to fill every silence, to wear his heart on his sleeve, his emotions a billboard for all to see. Growing up, it had driven me mad. I’d cataloged it as a weakness, a flaw.
But standing there, in the heart of the villa, watching him absentmindedly fiddle with a jacket he’d forgotten he was wearing, I finally understood. He wasn’t loud out of carelessness. He was loud because he believed things deserved to be said.
And now, his silence was the most unnerving thing I’d witnessed in a long time. More unsettling than a white wolf tearing apart shapeshifters in a clearing.
“Something’s wrong,” Zayn murmured, his eyes fixed on Orion.
“I know,” I replied, the words feeling hollow.
“With him.”
“I know.”
I set d
