Liam's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his jaw flexing as he grit his teeth together. All a show of how irate he was, how this would not calm him. But he was carefully weighing Mike's responses. What each of them meant. The implied threat, no matter how accidental it had been, was rather damning. But the way he reacted, spreading his legs wider, immediately swearing it wouldn't happen, did help a little.

But still, he wasn't convinced either way. He'd been doing so well for so long. How did he go this long without seeing any sign that Mike had once been one of Odin's lackeys? The obvious answer was that Mike was full of shit. Maybe he'd been dealing and briefly encountered the legend. Or was part of the network that distributed the legend's goods but never even encountered him.

After a moment of irritated contemplation, he moved again. He unwound the belt from Mike's wrists, wrapping it around his own hand as he backed off the couch. He used that grip to drag Mike up, but no higher than chest level. "You'd never what?" he demanded, still warning and rife with tightly controlled anger.