ATLAS
"Her heart was ripped out of her chest," Alpha Igor exclaimed, turning around with a pale face and horror in his eyes.
"Who could've done such a thing?" He stepped back, his gaze scanning me briefly, expectant. "Do you have… any other creature aside from werewolves here? Of course, those damned witches aren't capable of tearing out a heart like this." He grunted, his voice sharp with disgust.
I said nothing, and he turned back to his daughter's lifeless body, studying her carefully.
"This is…" Alpha Igor froze, his hand hovering over the heart that had been separated from her chest. He touched it—and I caught the soft gasp that escaped his lips.
"Do you have anyone from that cursed—Nymeria Bloodline in your pack house?" he hissed.
My frown deepened. "Nymeria Bloodline?"
I'd only ever heard the name once, and that was when Uncle Darius was still alive.
