CHAPTER 102: PEST

Josie

I couldn’t believe it.

Liam had heard me. Every single word.

It felt like my blood turned to ice and my skin broke out in a shiver. I must’ve looked like I’d just seen a ghost because my fingers trembled at my sides. I was shaking so lightly that I almost didn’t notice the hand that slid into mine—firm, warm, grounding.

Thorne.

I didn’t know whether to be grateful or startled, but at that moment, the steady weight of his hand was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade. "No one cares about your little... gift," Thorne snapped at Liam, his tone dripping with disdain. "But next time you decide to intrude on our conversations, I suggest you think twice. The consequences will be... unpleasant."

The corner of Liam’s mouth tilted into a smirk. "Unpleasant? That’s cute. So tell me, if no one cares about my ’little gift,’ why exactly was I called here to your pack? Out of boredom? A charity case? Or did you just want someone around who can actually do something useful?"

Thorne’s grip on my hand tightened, and I felt the slow, dangerous build of his temper. "Useful? You’re about as useful as a hole in a boat," he drawled, eyes narrowing. "And if you think waltzing in here with your smug little smirk is going to impress anyone, you’re sorely mistaken."

"Oh, I don’t need to impress you," Liam shot back without missing a beat. "But clearly, you’re already feeling threatened. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to sound important."

Thorne’s jaw clenched so tightly I thought I heard his teeth grind. "The only thing threatening me right now is your voice. I’ve heard mosquito buzzes that are more pleasant."

"Then you might want to invest in earplugs," Liam replied with an infuriating calmness, folding his arms. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

Their glares locked like clashing swords, and the air between them was charged enough to make the tiny hairs at the back of my neck stand. I had no doubt that if I stepped away, they’d lunge at each other.

Before I could say anything, the witch stepped forward. "Enough," she said sharply, her gaze sweeping over both of them. Then she looked at me, as if I were the only reasonable person in the room. "My apologies for Liam’s rudeness. He doesn’t exactly understand... social etiquette. But he will adjust soon enough."

Liam arched a brow at her. "Don’t make promises on my behalf."

She ignored him. "There’s a lot you’ll all have to bear with for now. Patience will serve you better than hostility."

Thorne let out a short, humorless laugh. "Patience? That’s not exactly my strong suit when someone can’t keep their mouth shut."

The tension between them was rising again, and my chest felt tight. I took a step forward, holding my hands up between them like a flimsy shield. "Thorne, please. Calm down. It hasn’t even gotten to the point where anyone needs to start throwing threats around." My voice sounded smaller than I wanted, but it was the truth—I didn’t want to see whatever this would escalate into.

Varen, who had been leaning casually against the wall until now, straightened. "Josie’s right," he said, his gaze flicking from Thorne to Liam.

"There’s no need for this. And Josie—" he looked at me then, his voice softening slightly "—you don’t need to be so scared. We’re not the only ones with powers here. That doesn’t give anyone the right to act like they own the place."

I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the way Liam’s eyes gleamed—like he was silently laughing at all of us—made my stomach knot.

Varen stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel like a warning. "If they’re going to be here, they need to step in line."

I swallowed hard. My palms were damp, and I had no idea how I was still on my feet. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it might just leap out of my chest.

And then... Liam winked at me.

It wasn’t playful. It wasn’t charming. It was deliberate—slow and knowing, as if he was silently telling me, I know what you’re afraid of.

I felt my throat go dry. The only sound I could hear was the rush of my own blood in my ears. I didn’t want to imagine the extent of his powers. But my mind went there anyway.

My gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, toward Kiel.

He was glaring at Liam. Not just glaring—his entire posture screamed hostility. His shoulders were stiff, his jaw set, and his eyes held a cold, dangerous edge that made me instinctively take half a step closer to him.

I decided to put an end to this spiraling mess before it dragged on any further. Turning to the witch, I forced my voice to steady. "I don’t want to spend the whole day arguing about this. Can we just... move on? I want to know exactly what I need to learn."

The witch nodded slightly, but it was Liam who answered, his tone infuriatingly casual. "That’s what I’m here for. I’ll make sure you master your powers—use them for good, not to hurt anyone. We’ll make it... pleasant." His smile deepened. "So pleasant you won’t believe it."

My skin prickled, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

The witch finally wrapped things up and left after receiving payment. The second she was gone, the triplets fell into a quiet but heated debate about what to do with Liam. Their voices overlapped—Kiel’s sharp, Varen’s low and biting, Thorne’s blunt and cutting.

Liam, of course, seemed completely unfazed by their discussion. He strolled across the room, his gaze drifting to a framed picture on the far wall. Without warning, he reached toward it, and I froze as the tree outside the window shifted. Its branches extended—unnaturally, impossibly—snaking their way into the room. One branch curled delicately toward him, offering a piece of fruit like a servant presenting a gift.

He plucked it from the branch, took a casual bite, and just like that, the tree withdrew as if nothing had happened.

No one said a word.

No one had to.

The display was enough to silence every objection, every argument. The message was clear: he had power, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Kiel’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing. Thorne looked away first, muttering something under his breath. Varen’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes stayed on Liam for a beat too long.

The verdict was made without another word—Liam would be staying in the guest room.

I let out a slow breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, but it was short-lived.

As I turned to leave, I felt the brush of warm breath against my ear.

"See me later," Liam whispered, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

A shiver shot down my spine. My eyes darted toward him instinctively, but—

He was still standing at the window.

Not close enough to whisper. Not even close enough to touch me.

Sweat broke out across my skin, and my heartbeat thundered so loud it almost drowned out everything else.

Whatever game Liam was playing... I had a feeling it was only just beginning.