Clyde swallowed again, his throat dry, his grip tightening over the can of banana milk in his hand.
He had faced battles, commanded Alphas, and shattered whoever got in his way.
And yet, sitting here, trying to string together words that wouldn't shatter the fragile space between them—it was proving to be the hardest thing he had ever done.
His gaze flickered to Ryley, but then he looked away, suddenly feeling exposed.
Shit. He never thought talking—really talking—could be this difficult.
Then, Maximilian's voice echoed in his mind—a lesson spoken in a rare moment of wisdom not long ago.
