Marcus’s hands shook. At last, he dropped to his knees, voice quivering so low it was almost a whisper.
“Your Holiness, please show mercy... Liam attacked someone in public; Envoy Vetle punished him for his own wrongdoing.”
His forehead touched the floor as cold sweat beaded. However strong Silver Ridge might be, it was only one Pack. Offend the Pope, and the entire Pack could be cast out and slaughtered.
David snorted, contempt flashing in his eyes. Vetle had already been punished; there was no need to press the matter.
“Bring Vetle in.”
The heavy footsteps were getting closer, and my heart sank with each one. I turned—and froze.
He was carried in on a stretcher. Blood had soaked through the black robe across his back. My chest clenched as if seized in a fist; I couldn’t breathe.
“
