I wrenched free from the guards’ grip, snatching my communicator back. Alaric watched in silence as I unlocked it effortlessly. His lips parted, as if he wanted to speak—but no words emerged, and the tension hung between us, heavy as a winter storm over the pack.
Without any warning, Alaric ripped my communicator from my hands. His thumb flew across the screen, movements frantic and aggressive as he searched for proof of the betrayal he had already decided was real. Then, suddenly, he froze.
His body went rigid as his eyes locked onto a close-up image—me and my brother, shoulder to shoulder, faces clear beneath the moonlight. A heartbeat later, the tension snapped, and his rage exploded.
“Oh, Raven,” he sneered, holding the device up like a trophy. “Isn’t this perfect? The proof is staring us right in the face. So tell me—what excuse are you going to crawl out with now?”
“I’ve already told you the truth—that wolf is my brother!” I shouted, struggling against the hands gripping my arms. “Give me back my communicator! This is outright theft. You’re slandering me—and violating my privacy!”
Before I could finish, Alaric’s hand lashed out.