Was Leo really trying to sideline him?
And now Leo was even letting Altair join Dames’s private lessons, which only heightened Harrison’s wariness.
Harrison spoke up, making sure his words were loud enough for Liam, Patriarch Vaughn, and the rest of the Vaughn elders to hear.
Leo’s back was to Harrison as he replied in a voice as cold as steel, “Are you trying to teach me a lesson?”
He didn’t so much as spare Harrison a glance, but in that instant, he seemed as distant and untouchable as a figure on a cathedral throne—so imposing that even his silhouette was intimidating.
Harrison’s expression turned grim. His lips parted, but he felt an invisible pressure closing in on him, suffocating and relentless, squeezing the air from his lungs.
His neck bowed under a crushing weight, and, almost involuntarily, he yielded to Leo’s authority. “No... I wouldn’t dare.”
Leo’s wheelchair spun smoothly, turning a full circle until he faced Harrison and Gemma.
At that moment, beads of sweat as round as peas began to roll down Harrison’s sharply defined face, tracing lines along his chiseled features.
Dames’s heart gave a wild shudder; like a startled kitten, he instinctively burrowed into Gemma’s arms.
Leo fixed his gaze on him. “Kneel properly.”
Those two words were enough to command Dames, who reluctantly wriggled out of Gemma’s embrace and shuffled back onto the rug, kneeling upright in submission.
Leo continued, his voice cold and precise. “Explain the bump on the back of Altair’s head.”
His tone was as icy and direct as freezing rain, each syllable landing like a blow to Dames’s skull.
Dames felt a chill at his crown. He clutched the top of his head, cheeks puffed out in protest. “I don’t know.”
“Altair said you hit him with a stick,” Leo pressed.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant