"Why are you still here, Elder Myrath?" Rosaline demanded curtly, her eyes narrowing in thinly disguised annoyance.
Her tone bore the chill of one who is used to being obeyed. She folded her arms over her chest and stood tall, her posture tense as she glared him down.
She simply did not comprehend why this old man was still lingering around the corridor. In her opinion, his usefulness had already come to an end the moment he could not assist Lucian.
He had left her mate unconscious for hours, utterly helpless. What was the use of an elder physician if he could not even treat the Alpha of Mooncrest?
Elder Myrath sensed the bite beneath her words as a slap, but his creased face showed little reaction.
Resentment seethed in his heart, not against Rosaline's pride, for he was accustomed to that, but against the complicated knot of secrets which had held him captive since that night.
