The hall turned into a slaughterhouse in seconds.
The sound of metal hitting metal drowned out the guests' screams.
Tables were flipped, fine china shattered against the stone, and the thick, copper scent of fresh blood replaced the smell of roasted meat. My father’s guards met Eugene’s warriors in the center of the hall, their bodies colliding with a violence that shook the floor and caused fear to roar in my chest.
Eugene was old, but he was not soft. Even as my father tackled him, he used his nails like claws, tearing at my father’s face. They rolled in the dirt and spilled wine, two Alphas acting like rabid animals.
I stood frozen in the dining hall. Elara was still unconscious on the floor, and my mother was nowhere to be seen—she had likely fled the moment the first sword was d
