Selene watched the shock spread across her face, her smile widening, venom pooling in her eyes. "That's right. I took credit for what you did. I told Fenris that I was the one who risked my life to save him." She laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. "All these years, you and your dead mother have been nothing but stepping stones for me to climb higher in the pack."
The words had barely faded when the storage den's heavy doors burst open. Fenris stormed in with a group of Blackmoor pack guards at his back, his face taut with urgency, his eyes already blazing gold with his wolf's fury.
Fenris's usually pristine ceremonial attire was streaked with blood from somewhere—he looked wild, desperate. His gaze swept between the two she-wolves suspended in the air, and when it fell upon the cauldron of boiling oil churning beneath them, waves of heat rolling off its surface, his pupils shrank to narrow slits. Every muscle in his body locked tight, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pulls.