Logan's POV
Rowan's words are still ringing in my skull, bouncing off bone and nerve, but they don't feel real. They feel like smoke, like I can wave them away if I just breathe hard enough.
I'm shaking my head, pacing in tight circles, Oliver's laugh still echoing faintly in my chest, some ghost of peace and happiness that doesn't belong here anymore. My brother has just detonated my entire life in front of hundreds of people, and he still had the audacity to stand before me, calm as a saint.
"This doesn't make sense," I mutter. My hands are flexing, curling into fists. "You can't just throw this at me and call it a day, Rowan. That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works. Are you even allowed to do this?"
Rowan's voice is steady. "As the Alpha-Chief, it's my right to abdicate my position and choose my successor."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
Great. Just great.
I rake my fingers through my hair and let out a shaky laugh. "You're being unreasonable, Rowan."
