CHAPTER 208
Livius swallowed hard before finding his voice. He only stared at Ezekiel as he spoke, his tone barely above a whisper.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to help His Majesty at all. And most probably… no one could. Except by himself."
Argon snapped his head toward him, eyes wide with disbelief and anger.
"What do you mean no one could help him? What are you saying, Livius? Is this—" he gestured toward the faded tattoo, the raw claw marks, and the unmoving Alpha on the bed, "—because of her? Because of Melisca? Because of the damage she's done to him?"
His voice was sharpened with accusation, on the edge of breaking. He didn't care how harsh it sounded.
Gandolf quickly put a hand on Argon's shoulder, squeezing—an urgent warning to stop, to not throw blame blindly when their Alpha lay dying in front of them. But Argon ignored him completely. He shoved Gandolf's hand off with a rough movement, chest heaving.
