Malrik’s POV
I slid the tablet across the table, watching as Ysolde’s trembling hands received it. The instant her gaze fell on the image the mangled corpses, the ruinous aftermath, the sheer brutality of it her breath fractured into a sharp gasp.
I allowed the silence to stretch, giving her the mercy of a moment. She needed it. The fear etched across her face spoke for her, raw and undeniable.
“Does it look familiar?” My tone was steady, precise sharpened steel masquerading as calm.
Her wide, tear-rimmed eyes darted toward me, trembling lips already shaped into denial.
“I don’t have compulsion abilities, Alpha,” she stammered, her voice fraying at the edges. “I swear I had no part in this.”
I shook my head, cutting through her panic with certainty. “No, Ysolde. I know it wasn’t you.
