The silence that followed the picture felt heavy, pressing down on Ivan's chest until even standing still became exhausting.
He forced himself not to look away from Aria, not to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much it affected him.
He searched for words that would fit the moment, but they refused to come easily.
But if he were honest with himself, he was tired. Tired of carrying the weight of expectations. Tired of worrying what would happen if he was exposed. Tired of hiding.
For the first time in a long while, he realized he truly didn't care what his father or what the pack would do to him anymore.
...Exile, disgrace, punishment,. none of it mattered the way it once had.
If she showed that picture to everyone, then so be it. Let them see. Let them judge.
"By this reaction, I'm guessing you really don't care, do you?" Aria asked, studying him closely.
