I waited until the soft click of the door signaled Morgana’s departure. The moment the latch caught, the fragile mask of composure shattered.
I stormed toward the door, yanking it open with such force the hinges protested. The corridor stretched before me, but my blood was roaring too loudly for silence. I needed air. I needed to move before the fury inside me clawed its way out in worse ways. I had barely taken ten steps down the hall when a young omega maid came rushing around the corner, arms full of a pitcher of deep crimson wine meant for the evening’s table. The girl’s eyes were downcast in haste, feet moving too quickly on the polished stone.
“My Luna—!” the maid gasped, trying to stop short.
Too late.
The pitcher tilted violently. A heavy splash of rich red wine arced through t
