My mind replayed what I'd heard before I walked in. They'd called her daughter of the pack.
My throat tightened, but I kept my smile fixed in place as I swept my gaze across all of them.
"Making her uncomfortable? How?"
"I heard Father call her 'daughter of our pack' before I even opened the door. I thought I must have misheard."
"But I didn't, did I? I've been sitting here all this time, and not one of you has said it was a joke."
The older wolves' faces flushed with shame.
Ronan guided Raven to the cushioned bench by the fire, tucking a soft pelt behind her lower back with careful hands.
Then he poured her a steaming cup of chamomile tisane and placed it gently in her palms.
In all our years of bonding, Ronan had never once treated me like that.
I had never been on the receiving end of such tender, meticulous care.
Yet here it was, lavished on another Omega without restraint.
I watched for a moment, then asked casually, as if making small talk, "When did this start?"
Ronan shot me a glance, irritation flickering across his face. "Just say what you mean."
"Fine. When did the two of you start?"
My soul was tearing itself apart, and my voice rose sharply before I could stop it.