Nero's voice remained pleasant. "That sounds accusatory."
"It is."
"How direct. Dean has been a good influence."
"Do not use Dean to avoid this."
Nero's smile faded.
Arion looked at him across the untouched plates and polished glass, seeing not the menace, not the cousin, not Dax's theatrical heir with Chris's terrifying intelligence beneath the beauty, but the veteran. The one who had walked infected ground in Alamina since he was fifteen. The one commanders listened to because he had earned the right in blood, ash, and beast pheromone residue.
"You have influence over beast-season rotations," Arion said.
Nero did not deny it.
"You are grinding Sebastian down."
For the first time, something moved in Nero's face.
