Connall's face turns white. With rage, I think, until he speaks. "It wasn't my fault."
"You always put her last, that's if you remembered to think about her at all. You abandoned me as well as your pack when you couldn't deal with the guilt. Now that you want something from me, you're here. Leave. Now. Everything I want and will ever need is right here."
Anger and pain flare hot and bright inside Connall. As I watch it rise, I squeeze Lucian's hand and wait for the inevitable explosion.
What I'm not expecting is for Connall to turn around and walk away.
"You're bleeding." My father's words draw my gaze from the retreating figure.
I find his eyes on my hands with their torn and broken nails. He's not the only one who's noticed them. Zia is hovering near the back door of the house, and from her position, she looks like she was getting ready to run if the situation deteriorated any further.