"I believe you."
Liam stared at him for one long, exhausted second, as if trying to decide whether murder remained logistically available.
Then his eyes lost focus by a fraction.
Arik felt it before Liam admitted it. The way his body went heavier. The shaking changed, no longer sharp enough to be pure panic, but softened at the edges by suppressant, cold, and the brutal crash that came with too much fear. His grip on Arik's shirt loosened, then tightened again at once, as if his body had realized the betrayal and corrected it.
Arik did not move.
The pheromones in the room thickened around them without being seductive.
There was no hunger, no desire for heat, and no alpha pressure curling around Liam's senses, hiding expectations beneath warmth. Arik kept that part of himself so tightly leashed it might as well have been locked in another room.
What he let out instead was weight.
