Outside, in the grand council hall, Ligon stood at the head of the table. His voice when he spoke, was firm and deep, carrying the weight of quiet authority.
“It was an assassination attempt,” he said, the words slicing through the silence. “Someone poisoned a large portion of the Nellings’ food before the feast began.”
No one dared to speak. Roloveria’s eyes flickered in restrained fury, while Kle’s jaw worked like he was ready to tear someone’s throat out.
Ligon turned to them, his tone crisp. “Trace the source. Start with the kitchens, the event planners, the suppliers, the servants who served the meal. Tear apart every trail until we get the truth. I want the culprit by dawn.”
Roloveria bowed slightly, her blonde hair sweeping over her shoulder. “As you command, Alpha.”
A faint no
