Rhea lifted the wide, bowl-like plate with both hands and tipped it back. The broth slid down her throat in a noisy slurp that echoed across the silent kitchen. When she lowered it, not a drop remained.
Every eye in the room clung to her in disbelieve. Marta's stare burned the hottest of all, her jaw tight, her fingers gripping the counter as though she was imaging it to be Rhea. Was this really the same girl who used to bow her head and let anyone trample over her? It had to be some act, some temporary burst of nerve. Once the Alpha got hold of her, this façade would crumble.
Let me see her act all high and mighty when the Alpha is through with her, Marta thought darkly, her lips curling in contempt.
Rhea let the plate slip from her fingers onto the table with a sharp clatter, then pressed a hand to her stomach and burped loudly. The sound was raw, unapologetic, and she chuckled at her own audacity. "That went down well," she said, her voice rich with satisfaction.
