What struck Max most wasn't simply the man's presence but the aura this young man had. There was a pride etched into every inch of his bearing—not the fierce, lethal confidence that radiated from Scott, nor even the fiery arrogance of Derek, but a pride rooted in something deeper.
It was the kind of pride that came not merely from personal strength but from the weight of a lineage and a seat among secrets few could fathom. It was the detached superiority of a man who knew he belonged to something higher than the world around him.
He paused just at the top of the stairs, his gaze sweeping coolly over the gathered figures before settling briefly on Derek, who stiffened in visible irritation.
Then his eyes flickered toward Scott, lingered for a fraction of a second, and finally came to rest on Max. For an instant, a subtle curiosity glinted in those dark eyes—as though he were studying an anomaly in a puzzle he had not anticipated.
