Rosalind snarled, the sound ripping from deep in her chest, more wolf than woman. "You? You're nothing. How dare you demand our Luna bare her throat to anyone."
A guard was already moving. His boot caught Rosalind square in the chest and sent her sprawling. Then he seized my wrist, dragged me in front of Celeste, and shoved me down. "Kneel."
I looked up at him, cold and unblinking. "You forget yourself. What gives you the right to lay a hand on me?"
The words had barely left my mouth when something slammed into the backs of my knees. They buckled, and I crashed onto the cobblestone with a crack that shot white-hot pain through every bone in my body.
The guard pressed the flat of a silver-edged blade against my spine. The metal seared through the fabric, a thin line of heat that made my wolf recoil deep inside me, pressing herself small and silent against the pain. "Apologize to the lady."
Celeste stood before me. Her embroidered slippers were exquisite, each stitch immaculate. They might as well have been a taunt.