Thessaly's face flushed red, but Cyric wasn't finished.
"You see," he continued conversationally, "there's something particularly fascinating about individuals who make a habit of... shall we say, repositioning themselves strategically within family structures. Take our dear Thessaly here, for example."
I watched in fascination as Cyric circled his prey, his tone remaining perfectly polite even as his words turned deadly.
"It's quite remarkable, really. First married to Reynolds Ashmoor—may he rest in peace—and now setting her sights on his brother. One might call it pragmatic. Others might use less charitable terms."
The crowd was hanging on every word now, and I could see several people pulling out their phones to record the exchange. This would be all over the werewolf soc
