Amara stepped forward when she realized her daughter was being publicly rebuked. "Alpha Feymere, you may not be aware that Zarelle was mated to my son."
Cyric's response came casually and mockingly. “I'm fully aware of that."
"Then you should understand that she has... certain tendencies," Amara continued, her voice dripping with the kind of poisonous sweetness that masked cruelty. "A woman with her history requires careful handling."
"What kind of history?" Cyric's tone remained pleasant, but I caught the dangerous undertone that made lesser wolves submit instinctively.
Amara's smile turned predatory. "While she certainly possesses physical appeal..." Her appraising look made my skin crawl, evaluating me like livestock at the market. "It takes more than beauty to make suitab
