<b>3/3 </b>
Third Person’s POV
At Tamara’s words, Sabrina’s heart filled with guilt. The light golden wolf hair on her ears bristled slightly from the emotional shock, and a reluctant whine rolled in her throat.
As a member of the Bloodmoon Pack’s Alpha family, her werewolf blood coursing with rage, she unconsciously extended half–inch wolf ws from her fingertips, snagging the hem of her skirt.
She soon became indignant with shame and leaped to her feet.
She bellowed, “We were all duped by Velda! We thought she’d help Alpha Ulrik earn merits, but she not only failed to aid him but also dragged him down. She got captured herself, and who knows which werewolf marked her……”
Her words carried a sharp tang of sulfuric pheromones.
Before she could finish, the sound of boot heels crushing moonstone tiles echoed from the doorway.
Velda stormed in, her entire being enveloped in a minty pheromone blizzard. Her knuckles, mid–shift from rage, revealed partial transformation.
Five cold–gleaming wolf ws tore through the air, leaving five bone–deep gashes on the doorframe.
In three strides, she was inside, her wolf ws seizing Sabrina’s cor with precision. The leather wrist guard snapped under the force, exposing scars of old battle wounds on her forearm.
Two resounding ps,ced with werewolf aura, left Sabrina’s ears ringing. Her nape nds stung under the minty pheromone suppression.
Werewolves instinctively submit to their Luna and Alpha.
Sabrina copsed onto the bed, her neck fur bristling with fear. She whimpered like a pup whose tail had been stepped on.
Velda’s face was terrifyingly stern, the cold light on her wolf ws reflecting the blood–red vertical pupils in her eyes. “One more word, and I’ll tear your mouth apart!”
Her low growl,ced with the smoke of battlefields, became a tangible pressure that knocked the wolf–head tapestry askew.
Sabrina, terrified by Velda’s ferocity, tears streaming down her face, cried, “Mother, she hit me.”
Rosemary, seeing her daughter struck, her withered wolf ws scraped crescent–shaped dents into the sofa
armrest.
As the retired Luna, her weakened wolf spirit barely mustered pale golden pheromones, flickering like an old oilmp. “Ulrik, control your mate!”
The aura in her voice couldn’t even steady the flickering candle on the table.
Ulrik <b>stepped </b>in front of Velda, <b>cedar </b>pheromones spreading like melting snow, attempting to <b>ease </b>the
tension.
But the pheromones carried evident exhaustion. The wounds on his body still showed red marks from the whip soaked in wolfsbane sap.
“How could you hit her?” <b>His </b>palm hovered over Velda’s shoulder, trying to soothe her rage with Alpha pheromones<b>. </b>“She spoke out of turn. A reprimand would suffice.”
Yet beneath his touch, her muscles<b>, </b>taut as bowstrings beneath her pauldron, still bore scars from wolf fangs on the Southern Border.
Velda’s eyes brimmed with disappointment and fury. Her minty pheromones intensified. “And what if <b>I</b><b>, </b>as the pack’s Luna, struck her? She nders me here–why don’t you reprimand her?”
Her wolf w, still stained with splinters from the doorframe, sliced through the air. “I can’t stop the outside gossip, but in the Bloodmoon Pack, does a mere pup get to dictate terms?”
Sabrina shrunk in the bed’s corner, her wolf ears trembling with fear and grievance.
Though she dared not meet Velda’s cold–gleaming wolf w, she retorted with a choke, “It’s not like I made it up–it’s what they say outside…… You’re just bullying me!”
Her voice cracked with sobs but died in her throat as Velda’s pheromones suddenly descended.
Velda red coldly, the cold light on her wolf w flickering with each breath. “I can’t control what outsiders say, but I’m in charge of you! I am your Luna!”
As she turned, the Bloodmoon sigil on her skirt brushed Sabrina’s bowed forehead. “In this pack, Alpha Isaiah no longer manages affairs. Simon’s idle, Tamara’s weak-”
Her voice dropped abruptly, her wolf w unconsciously stroking the empty medal clip on her waist, meant for the Bloodscar Border merit medal. “Rosemary’s always ill, can’t even afford medicine, yet you have the gall to demand jewelry and clothes?”
Her final words, forged in the battlefield’s frost, mirrored her tone when addressing captives during the Snow Deer Vige massacre.
Sabrina’s nape nd contracted sharply, and atst, she silenced beneath this visceral killing intent.
Velda’s words struck each Tenar family member like a silver moon grass dagger.
She had offended everyone present.
Simon and Tamara’s faces darkened instantly, both turning to Ulrik in unison.
The usually low–key couple could no longer hide their shock.
Rosemary<b>, </b>enraged almost to fainting, her wolf roaring weakly in her mind, her trembling finger pointed at Velda. “You<b>…… </b>how dare you……”
<b>2/3 </b>
She struggled to speak, her