“What the hell is wrong with you, Lucy?” His golden eyes darkened with anger, his fangs slightly bared. “Monica came here to say hi, and then you attacked her like a rabid wolf?”
I picked myself up, brushing the dirt from my clothes, but my glare didn’t waver. “She insulted my mother. Do you think I would just stand there and take it? And you—” I exhaled sharply, trying to keep my composure. “You never even told me the truth about what happened to her. You just said the healers failed. That’s it?”
A flicker of panic crossed his face before he masked it with a cold stare. “We already discussed this. Her wounds were fatal. The healers did their best, but it wasn’t enough.”
He was lying. I could smell it, the slight change in his scent, the way his heartbeat skipped just once. But I wasn’t going to expose him yet. Revenge had to be carefully planned.
Before I could press further, Monica, ever the manipulator, placed a delicate hand on his chest. “It’s okay, Trent,” she whispered, her voice filled with fake sympathy. “I think she’s still upset over Henry breaking their mate bond to be with me. Maybe I deserved that slap. Consider this my way of making peace.”