"There you are, dear sister." The burly wolf-prince's baritone was a sneering rumble. "Father sent me to summon you. The rest of the pack is assembled to receive final edicts before the rites commence at moonrise."
Gwen rolled her eyes skyward. "Of course, the old wolf howls and we must obey."
Her brother's mist-colored gaze swept over Tristan's battered form, drinking in the evidence of brutality with obvious relish. Blood stained the prisoner's torn garments, testament to hours of merciless sport.
"I see you've found novel ways to pass the time with our mongrel guest." A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Though do try to moderate your enthusiasms, sister. His vital essence must remain intact until the ritual's completion."
A nerve ticked in Gwen's jaw as visions of the unspeakable
