"Besides, you should count yourself lucky. Even if your pup had survived, it would have been taken from you and raised under the recognized mate. Better this way, really."
"Bring the tincture over. Make her drink it. Help her recover."
The den workers pried my jaw open and forced the liquid down my throat. I recognized the taste. Bitter and acrid, burning like poison. Concentrated wolfsbane tincture. The kind that kills the womb.
I thrashed, tried to spit it out, but they pinned me down and held my mouth shut. My wolf surged once, a single desperate lunge against the inside of my ribs, and then the wolfsbane reached her too. She collapsed somewhere deep inside me, and I felt the exact moment she went still.
Sable crouched beside me and patted my cheek, slow and deliberate, every touch a humiliation. "Can't have you bearing more pups down the line. All that squabbling over heirs gets so tiresome."
"My mating ceremony is in two days. I still need to go try on my jeweled ceremonial crest. If you'll excuse me."
As she stood, she let her robe fall open just enough to reveal the moonstone pendant at her waist.