The moment Clarissa's laughter fades into the morning air, the silence she leaves behind is heavy enough to choke on. Darien knows the rhythm of these breakfasts too well. At first, there's a seemingly composure until one wrong word detonates, and the table becomes a battlefield dressed in porcelain and gold.
Ines moves first. She always does.
Her teacup settles in its saucer with a sound sharper than glass. "Speaking of blessings," she begins sweetly, her eyes flicking to Clarissa like the strike of a serpent, "it's essential that Alpha wolves prove themselves worthy of the Goddess's favor. Responsibility, leadership, accomplishment—those are the true markings of a strong lineage."
Darien's gut tightens. He recognizes that tone. It's the one she uses before eviscerating someone.
