Maxwell and Levi could both feel Addison's seething fury, so intense it gripped their hearts like a vice. The rage coursing through her veins echoed in theirs, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. It was as if her anger was consuming their systems, flooding their vision with red. Their hands clenched, nostrils flaring as they glared daggers at Leon, barely restraining themselves.
Zion, however, who had battled his own darkness and danced with fury more times than he could count, was eerily calm. He had lived in this kind of rage for so long that it no longer shook him.
Instead, it gave him clarity. Where Maxwell and Levi trembled with explosive emotion, Zion could still think. Still speak. Still protect.
But before anyone could make a move, Addison let out another earth-shaking roar, a sound so raw and primal, it tore through the air like a blade. This time, it wasn't just a cry of anger; it was out of defiance.
