"Lady Ashvale." She tilted her head, eyes glittering with malice. "How was your night? Lonely, I imagine. That big nest of furs all to yourself."
She leaned closer, and I caught the deliberate way she let Kael's scent drift from her skin—marking herself with him, making sure I knew.
"Kael was with me. We were up very late." Her smile sharpened. "He says you're like carved ice in the furs. Five years of bonding, and you still can't hold his wolf's interest."
I met her gaze. Ice cold.
"Did your dam never teach you proper pack manners?"
Raven's smile froze on her lips, then twisted into something far uglier. "My dam only taught me to seize what I desire."
She prowled closer, her voice dripping with venom like poison from a fang. "Do you truly believe your dead sire's little sacrifice—using his own life to bind Kael through guilt—will keep him at your side forever?"
My sire's death remains a wound no healer can touch.
"Speak those words again." My voice emerged low. Dangerous. A growl building beneath the surface.
Raven didn't flinch. "Your sire, that pathetic shade, deserved to be crushed beneath those wheels."