The voices of the alphas grew louder, some even standing as they shouted at him. Their anger filled the hall, the weight of their power pressing down on him, trying to force him to bend.
But Aeron did not move.
Suddenly, he lifted his head. His eyes, sharp and cold, cut through the noise. The chilling glare froze the air in the hall. The shouting stopped.
Even the older alphas flinched at that look, their voices dying in their throats. The alpha heirs, who just moments ago had stood tall with arrogance, quickly lowered their eyes to the ground. Their fists clenched tight, their jaws stiff with anger.
They hated it. They hated him. But they knew the truth. The bastard sitting before them was still the strongest one in this hall. If he wished, he could rip them apart in seconds.
And worse, this was only him. If his brothers were here—if all four of them stood together—then it would not just be defeat for the others. It would be doom.
