I raised my head and met his gaze without flinching.
“That’s exactly who I am,” I said evenly. “And the wolf in those images? That’s my brother—Alistair Ashcroft.”
The laughter didn’t stop. It swelled.
Mr. Webb slapped the table, wheezing. “She’s gone completely mad!”
“If you’re the Queen Wolf of the Elite Circles,” he cackled, “then I must be Arthur Ashcroft himself!”
“Yes! That’s right!” others chimed in eagerly.
“If she’s the Queen Wolf, we’ll eat dung right here under the full moon!”
I swept my gaze across them slowly, lips curling into a cold, disdainful smile. “Arthur Ashcroft is my father—not a title for ignorant mutts who bark without thinking.”
Their laughter stuttered—but I continued.
“You don’t believe me? Of course you don’t. Wolves like you—who follow the loudest voice and spew filth without thought—must be used to swallowing garbage every single day.”
My words struck hard.
The clearing erupted into fury and chaos.
“Believe you?” someone shouted. “You’re nothing but a she-wolf who slept her way to power!”
Mockery rang out from every side, howls of laughter drowning the night.