Her voice was sweet, oiled with false concern. “Selene, if you’re truly who you say you are, then of course you’re welcome. You must be exhausted. Come inside, we’ll—”
“No,” I cut in, cold. “Don’t pretend kindness now. I would not be taken to a side room.”
Her smile faltered. Briefly. Enough.
“I’m not here for charity. And I’m not going to some servant’s quarters to be hidden like a sin. You’re having a feast, aren’t you? Good. My daughter and I are starving. We’ll eat with the rest.”
“Selene—!” Damien snapped. His voice cracked like a whip. “Enough. You’re humiliating yourself.”
“No,” I said. “I’m revealing you.”
He took a step forward, face pale. “Change her clothes,” he told Elara, barely holding onto his Alpha composure. “Take her inside. Quietly. Before this gets worse.”
I saw it then—the fear behind his fury. Not of me. Of exposure.
Good.
I adjusted Ayla’s weight in my arms and smiled. “You buried us once, Damien. But we’ve clawed our way out. This time, the Pack will see the truth with their own eyes.”
And the first howl of war had begun.
Chapter four