[Third Person].
Rhovan did not answer; he withdrew deeper into the recesses of his mind, silent and guarded.
That silence enraged Draven more than words ever could.
"So even my wolf kept it from me," Draven growled as he rose to his feet again. "Do you know what that makes me, Meredith? Not even fully one thing. Not fully wolf. Not fully anything."
His jaw tightened, and his hands flexed as he began pacing the room.
"I should confront my father," he said, the words sharp and impulsive. "Now. Tonight."
Meredith moved instantly, stepping into his path. "No," she said firmly.
Draven stopped short, eyes blazing. "No?"
"This is not the time," Meredith continued, forcing calm into her voice. "You are angry, and you have every right to be, but confronting your father now would be reckless."
He let out a harsh laugh. "Reckless?"
"Yes," she said. "Because you don't have enough evidence. Not yet. And because your mother is still considered… unstable."
Draven's expression darkened.
