Author's POV
Luna Rose appeared at the end of the hallway, leaning on two servants, age weighing on her bones—but her presence still commanded the room.
Marcus broke free and hid behind her skirt.
"He's frightened," Rose observed. "Marcus, remember your manners. This is how wolves behave." She turned. "Margaret. I heard everything. You were wrong to hit her."
The words landed like a blow. "Mother, you can't be serious—"
"The boy was watching. A pup should never see violence in his own home." Then, to Clara, a hint of steel: "And you must respect the chain of command. Margaret is the Luna of this house."
"Of course, Grandmother." Clara's smile was sweet, poisonous. "I only want what's best for the Pack."
"Then you'll accept Margaret's apology, and we'll move on."
M
