-Vaughn Blackmore:
The second I mentioned his father, something in the room changed so noticeably that even I felt it immediately.
Not because Ryland exploded or lost control.
No.
That would've been easier to deal with.
Ryland Grayson didn't seem like the kind of person who yelled when he got angry. He didn't look like the kind of alpha who needed to slam fists into walls or bark orders to prove he was dangerous. Somehow, the silence coming from him felt worse than that.
He just stood there.
Still.
Tall enough that the soft lighting from the windows behind him cast long shadows across the floor around his feet, his broad shoulders tense underneath the black shirt stretched over his body. The room suddenly felt smaller with him standing there like that, quieter too, the expensive dorm swallowing every tiny sound until all I could hear was the faint buzzing of the lights overhead and my own breathing.
And him.
Not even moving.
Just staring at me.
