I froze, not because I was scared, but because I was pissed. Fury surged through me, hot and blinding. Before I could even reply, two pack warriors moved to block my path. Their hands clamped down on my arms like iron cuffs, their grip unrelenting.
I struggled, my wolf snarling in my mind, but they were too strong. Too many.
Mavros loomed over me, his gaze brimming with contempt. “I warned you not to test me, Izara. Now apologize,” he growled, his voice low and final, like a judge sentencing me.
Vivian, of course, stepped in with her syrupy sweet voice. "Alpha Mavros, don’t... Sis Izara didn’t mean it," she cooed, pretending to care.
I couldn’t help the scoff that slipped out. Her fake concern was almost funny—if I wasn’t the one paying the price.
“You’re too kind, Vivian,” Mavros said, his tone softening as he turned to her. “She doesn’t deserve your kindness. After what she did, it’s clear she doesn’t see you as her sister.”
His words weren’t just venomous—they were nuclear. They didn’t sting; they burned. And as I watched them, their twisted bond, I cursed myself for ever loving him.