The former Alpha leaned heavily on his wolf–headed cane, his aged claws carving deep grooves into the worn handle. Rage
rippled through his body, and the weight of his dominance filled the funeral hall.
The lower–ranked wolves whimpered, instinctively tucking their tails between their legs under the suffocating pressure of his pheromones.
“For that treacherous, scent–marked harlot,” the elder Alpha growled, his voice layered with a thunderous dual–tone, shaking the very air, “you turned your back on your Luna and your unborn heir!”
The crystal chandelier overhead swayed under the force of his words.
“By the Moon Goddess, do you even deserve the blood oath Ava swore for you?”
Lucas’s fangs pressed so hard against his lip that fresh blood trickled down his chin. The silver–gray fur along his nape bristled in agitation. Despite everything, his instinct to defend his chosen mate kicked in.
“Father, how can you say that about Sophia?” His voice wavered, the authority of an Alpha weakening. “She’s just… a kind- hearted she–wolf who needed protection…”
A deep, warning growl rumbled from the old Alpha’s throat. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he scattered a stack of enchanted photographs across the floor.
a moment
