Celeste couldn’t forget the fateful day she had met Syzar, the day after the siege, back in the familiar halls of the Cross Vale pack.
She had been called urgently by her father for a celebration and was forced to sit front and center of the cruel act, watching the Sorgale kingdom's alpha heir being taunted and tortured by her uncle.
The stench of blood and the brutal whips of the razor lashes caused slashes across his body.
She hated it, hated the violence, and hated the smirks of triumph on their faces as they watched his torture.
“What is it, Princess?” her father, Dregan, asked as she held a brittle instant of breath, feeling the bile rise in her throat.
“I’d like to go back to my chambers, please. I still have a few things to attend to, and I am tired,” she pleaded with her fathe
