Blake was exhausted. His body ached, his muscles burned, and his head pounded from everything that had just happened. But the moment Daniel started demanding answers, his voice filled with rage and grief over Jeremy, Blake knew he wasn't sticking around for that conversation.
Without a word, he grabbed Ethan's wrist and pulled him away from the chaos, away from the tension that filled the mansion like a thick, suffocating fog.
"Blake—" Ethan started, but Blake just tightened his grip.
"Not now," he muttered. His voice was low, rough, like he was holding back more than just exhaustion.
Ethan didn't argue. He just followed. Maybe he was too tired to fight, or maybe he knew exactly why Blake was dragging him away.