"Ahh!" Vera Turner screamed her frustration into the air when she received the news that their attack on the North pack had been foiled.
She stormed over to the small bar where bottles and glasses still sat from their earlier celebration of "inevitable victory." In one furious sweep, she cleared the counter, shards exploding as glass shattered across the floor, startling everyone present.
"Vera, calm down," Moira urged, but Vera whirled on her, eyes flashing.
"No! Don't tell me to fucking calm down! I've had enough of this bullshit! Everything would have gone according to plan if he had eliminated all of those freaks of nature from the start!"
Her voice rose, mocking with venom. "But no. Leave Violet Purple alive. She's special. There's something about her, I want her…" She twisted Patrick's words in a cruel imitation, her tone dripping scorn.
Vera strode to where Patrick sat slouched in his chair, head bowed, hands limp in his lap like a chastised child.
