As Marcus stormed out of the room, the silence felt like a weight pressing on Ethan's chest. He ran a hand through his hair, his face weary and full of doubt.
"I don't know if I can do this," he whispered. "I don't know if I can keep leading. Not after all this."
Avery stepped closer to him, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "You can. We're with you. The pack is with you. They'll follow you because they believe in you, not because of who you're with."
Ethan's eyes searched hers, looking for reassurance, for a way forward.
"I don't know if I believe that anymore," he said, his voice quiet. "But maybe you're right. Maybe it's worth fighting for."
The air between them was thick with unspoken fears. Avery squeezed Ethan's shoulder, her fingers brushing over the fabric of his shirt as if trying to steady him, to offer some kind of comfort. She watched his eyes, seeing the weight of the situation there—the same weight she felt herself.
