Irina stood together with Mikhail and Sergei near the long table at the center of the hall, their heads slightly inclined toward one another as they spoke in low voices. The atmosphere inside the mansion was calm now but the weight of what had happened earlier still lingered in the air like smoke that refused to clear.

Sergei, who six hours ago had been drenched in blood and barely breathing, now stood upright as if nothing had happened to him. His broad chest rose steadily, his skin looked healthy again, and there was even color in his face. The werewolf regeneration was impressive. It was brutal and animalistic but efficient. Where a normal man would have died, Sergei had rebuilt himself from the inside out.

Mikhail stood beside him, tall and silent, his large arms folded across his chest. His expression remained as unreadable as ever, but his eyes were focused. They were discussing something serious. Cain. The masked man. The power they had witnessed. There was no laughter between them. No arrogance. Just calculation.

Irina was the one speaking the most. Her tone was composed but there was tension beneath it. She did not like surprises and Cain had been one.

Suddenly the door to the room opened slowly.

The sound was soft but it pulled their attention instantly.

Liam walked in.

He did not rush. He did not look tired. His posture was relaxed, shoulders loose, face calm, almost carefree. If someone had not been there six hours ago, they would never guess he had been a breath away from death.

Irina’s eyes widened slightly.

She had expected him to still be in bed, recovering, maybe even unconscious for longer. Instead he walked like nothing had happened.

She turned toward him.

"Welcome back, we were just talking about what happ—"

She did not even get to finish her sentence.

Liam walked past her.

Not rudely in appearance. Not aggressively. He simply passed her as if she were not standing there. His focus was straight ahead.

On Sergei and Mikhail.

Irina’s lips parted slightly. The unfinished words died in her throat.

Lana stepped into the room behind Liam quietly. She had followed him without speaking, watching him carefully the entire way. When he woke up he had smiled at her. He had touched her gently. He had apologized.

There had been no sign of anger then.

But now something was different.

Liam stopped directly in front of Sergei and Mikhail.

He had to tilt his chin upward slightly because they were naturally taller than him. They were giants in comparison. Thick necks, wide shoulders, bodies built like walls. Even standing close to them felt like standing in front of two armored vehicles.

For a moment nobody spoke.

The air tightened.

Liam’s eyes were steady as he looked from one to the other.

Then he spoke slowly.

"I don’t care if you are on my side or not but the next time you two jump into a fight like that without coordination it will be the last fight you two will ever fight."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

There was no shouting. No visible rage. But the words were cold and direct, stripped of emotion. It was not a threat said in anger. It was a statement of fact.

Irina’s eyebrows lifted slightly in shock.

She had not expected that.

Not from him. Not in this tone. Especially not directed at Sergei and Mikhail. Those two were not weak men. They were not subordinates that people scolded casually. They were dangerous in their own right.

Lana frowned softly.

She had followed Liam from the bedroom and he had not shown even a hint of irritation. He had smiled at her. He had moved calmly. But standing here now, facing these two, his entire aura had shifted.

She did not know the full details of what happened in that fight. Irina had only told her the important parts. Cain’s power. The ambush. The retreat.

But clearly something had happened that crossed a line for Liam.

Sergei looked down at him.

His golden werewolf eyes studied Liam’s face carefully as if searching for hesitation. There was none.

Mikhail’s jaw flexed once but he did not speak.

The silence stretched.

Liam did not move. He did not blink away. He held their gaze like he was measuring them.

Inside his head the memory replayed. Sergei charging blindly into the dark. Mikhail following without signal. No coordination. No structure. Against someone like Cain that kind of reckless behavior was suicide.

Liam did not mind fighting powerful enemies. He did not mind risk. But he hated stupidity in battle. One mistake could wipe out all of them.

"I’m not repeating myself," Liam added quietly.

Irina watched him carefully now.

There was growth here. Six hours ago he had been thrown around like a rag doll by a monster they barely understood. Now he stood here issuing warnings like a commander.

Sergei suddenly glanced sideways at Mikhail.

Mikhail looked back at him.

There was a brief silent exchange between them. Something passed through their eyes.

Then it happened.

"Ahahahahahaha!"

They burst into laughter.

It was loud. Deep. Completely unexpected.

The sound filled the room and bounced off the high walls. Sergei threw his head back slightly as he laughed, his broad chest shaking. Mikhail’s deep rumbling laughter joined in, rare and raw.

Irina blinked.

Lana’s brows pulled together even more.

Liam did not laugh.

He simply stood there, staring up at them as they laughed in his face, his expression unreadable.

Liam suddenly smiled.

It was small at first. Just the corner of his lips lifting.

Sergei and Mikhail were still laughing, shoulders shaking, but when they saw that smile they exchanged another glance. Something about it did not sit right. It was too calm. Too steady.

Then Liam chuckled.

A low sound at first. Almost like he found it amusing.

The chuckle grew.

Within seconds he was laughing with them. Not forced. Not fake. A full laugh that came from his chest. It echoed in the hall just like theirs had.

Irina frowned slightly. Lana’s eyes narrowed. They both felt it. Something was building underneath that laughter.

Liam laughed for a full twenty seconds.

Nobody interrupted him.

Then slowly, he stopped.

He wiped the corner of his eye as if clearing a tear from laughing too hard. His breathing steadied. His head tilted slightly as he looked at the two towering werewolves before him.

And in an instant, his expression turned cold.

Not irritated.

Not angry.

Cold.

Whoosh!

Bang!

Thud!

The sounds came so fast they almost overlapped.

Liam’s leg moved before anyone processed it. A brutal low kick smashed directly into Sergei’s knee joint. The impact cracked against bone and forced the massive werewolf down. Sergei’s leg buckled instantly and his body dropped to one knee with a heavy thud that shook the floor.

Before Sergei could react, Liam’s hand shot forward.

He grabbed him by the throat.

His fingers locked tight around the thick neck and tightened.

Sergei’s eyes widened.

He tried to pry Liam’s hand away with both of his hands. Muscles bulged. Veins rose. But nothing moved. It was like trying to peel iron fingers from his throat.

And then they all saw it.

Under Liam’s skin faint gold light pulsed.

Thin streams like molten veins running beneath his flesh. From his wrist up his forearm, across his neck. It was subtle but unmistakable.

His strength surged.

The air in the room shifted.

An aura exploded outward from him, invisible yet crushing. It rolled through the hall like a heavy wave pressing down on every living thing inside.

Irina felt her legs tremble.

Her breath caught in her chest.

For a split second her body wanted to kneel.

Mikhail felt it too. A suffocating pressure crawling over his skin, pushing down on his shoulders. Even Sergei felt his body struggling against it.

The only one untouched was Lana.

She stood behind Liam, wide eyed but steady. The aura washed around her without resistance. It did not press on her. It did not threaten her.

Mikhail gritted his teeth and forced himself forward.

"You bastard!"

He launched a punch with everything he had. His arm bulged midair as fur burst through his skin. Claws extended as bone shifted. The transformation accelerated with rage.

The punch tore through the air aimed straight at Liam’s head.

But before the transformation even completed, Liam’s free hand moved.

He caught Mikhail’s wrist mid strike.

The impact stopped dead.

Twist!

Crack!

The sound of bone snapping filled the hall.

"Ahhhh!"

Mikhail’s scream tore out uncontrollably. Liam twisted the arm with horrifying precision, rotating it beyond its natural angle until the shoulder joint gave way. The bone tore free and the arm dangled uselessly at his side.

The giant dropped to one knee from the pain.

Now both of them were kneeling.

Sergei gasped for air as Liam’s hand tightened around his throat. Mikhail knelt clutching his ruined shoulder, teeth clenched against the agony.

Liam stood between them.

One hand wrapped around Sergei’s neck.

The other hand now shifting from Mikhail’s broken arm to clamp around his throat as well.

He held both of them down like they weighed nothing.

His golden veins pulsed faintly under his skin.

The aura in the room grew heavier. Even Irina felt sweat gather at her temples as she fought the instinct to submit to that pressure.

Liam’s face was emotionless.

His eyes were steady.

He spoke slowly.

"Listen carefully."

His grip tightened just enough to remind them who was in control.

"I don’t know how you guys behave here but if you are going to battle with me next time you better listen to everything I said, or you two will be my first victims."