Lyra remained unmoved, continuing to sort through her belongings. Seeing that her act wasn't working, Selene's eyes darted around the chamber. Deliberately, she set the container on the edge of the stone table, leaving more than half of it hanging over the side. When Lyra still didn't react, Selene steeled herself and let her fingers slip.
Crash—
The container hit the floor. Scalding broth splashed everywhere, pooling across the tiles. The rich aroma of herbs and bone marrow filled the air, mingling with the sharp crack of splintering wood.
Almost simultaneously, the door burst open. Fenris rushed in, his Alpha presence flooding the room like a storm. His gaze swept across the mess on the floor, then to Selene's tear-streaked face. In two strides, he was at her side, pulling her behind him, his voice tight with concern: "Selene, are you alright? Did it burn you?"
Selene bit her lip. Tears spilled down her cheeks like a broken string of pearls, but she said nothing—just shook her head, the portrait of wounded innocence. Fenris's heart clenched. Without asking permission, he lifted the hem of her dress. When he saw the faint red mark on her calf, the worry in his eyes hardened into rage.