Fernando’s pov
I slammed my fist onto the rough wooden table, sending my tin mug clattering across the dirt floor of the tent.
"Three weeks!" I snarled, stepping over the overturned stool as I glared down at Morgath. "Three weeks we've been waiting while your little pet bird sits in the Red Moon estate eating off silver plates!"
Morgath didn't flinch. She sat hunched beside her small iron pot, her withered fingers stirring a dark, foul-smelling liquid with a peeled bone.
"The blood mark is strong, my lord," Morgath rasped, her voice dry as dead leaves. "It binds the Alpha's mind. He sees her, he smells her, and he believes she carries his claim."
"I don't care what he sees!" I barked, grabbing the front of her ragged robes and jerking her upright. "Nash locked the girl in her quarters
