Hazel’s POV
His claws come out.
And Ella screams.
The sound tears through the Beta quarters. High. Shattering.
But Alaric doesn’t strike. Not yet.
He holds Vincent by the throat, claws an inch from jugular, eyes pure Alpha blue and burning with fever and fury. His broken leg shouldn’t support him. The blackroot should have him on the floor.
But he’s standing. Because his mate is in danger. Because his mate’s father is alive. Because twenty-three years of lies are choking the air.
“Wait,” Elder Malric says. His voice shakes. “Alpha, wait. If you kill him now, we lose the truth.”
“We have the truth,” I say. I kick the shards of the blackroot vial. “This is blackroot. Contact poison. Labeled in Vincent’s handwriting. Hidden in the Beta quarters he hasn’t had access to since you r
