“Daddy!” the girl whined, clinging to his leg. “She said she wants to kill us!”
Damien knelt to comfort them, his voice soft, his hands gentle.
Then his gaze found me—cold, sharp, full of blame.
“Selene,” he said, standing tall, “must you bring chaos everywhere you go?”
His eyes flicked briefly to Ayla, then past her—as if the blood on her face was a nuisance, not a wound.
“You’ve been here half a day and already upset the pack. Take your daughter and leave.”
I stared at him.
Not once did he acknowledge Ayla’s injury. Not a twitch of his nose. Not a flicker of concern. He clutched Lyra’s children like they were his own blood, while Ayla trembled in my arms, her breath shallow and rattling.
My heart ached.
I lifted Ayla gently, her small frame pressed to my chest, and stormed toward the Great Hall.
“Healer!” I shouted. “Is there a healer here? I need a medic now!”
Before I could reach the stairs, Damien blocked my path, flanked by two Betas.
“Selene, who do you think you are? Summoning the grand Healer for a bump on the head?”
He motioned to his guards. “Silence her. Take the child.”
Hands grabbed for Ayla. A cloth covered her mouth. Her eyes went wide with panic as her skin began to pale, then blue.
My wolf snapped.
I lunged and bit Damien hard on the shoulder, my teeth sinking through skin and muscle.
He roared, but I was already sprinting through the hall’s entrance, Ayla cradled tightly in my arms.
“Zane!” I shouted, spotting the Royal Healer across the chamber. “Zane! Help her—please!”
The music halted. Every head turned.
The Healer froze, eyes widening in disbelief. “Selene?”
He crossed the hall in a flash, his hands already glowing with healing energy. He took Ayla with practiced care, checking her pulse, her breath.
Above us, seated on the dais, was Lady Vivienne, once Alpha Regent, now wrapped in the dignity of age and power. She leaned forward, voice sharp as a fang.
“Who is that woman? Why does her scent stir old blood?”
Damien dropped into a shallow bow. “My Lady, she’s no one. A servant who lost her place long ago.”
But I was already moving.
I stepped into the center of the room, ignoring the dozens of eyes, and dropped to one knee, pulling a folded decree from my sleeve.
“My Lady,” I said clearly, my voice ringing in the silence, “I am not a servant.”
“I am Selene Stormfang. Daughter of Alpha Garrick. Blood of the ancient Northern Clans. First Luna of Clawfang Pack.”