Third Person’s POV


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    A sinking feeling hit Christine hard, and her wolf instantly sharpened its senses.


    Just based on those fragments, she could already tell that the conflict between Gloria and Tamara had been ongoing, and likely red up more than once.


    Her biggest fear was that those fights had been happening right up until Tamara’s death.


    “Tell me everything,” shemanded. She suppressed her scent, but her eyes turned cold.


    Her voice was stern and upromising. “I need to know every single detail, big or small.”


    The omega felt a chill run down her spine. She knew this was an Alpha–blooded she–wolf from the Ironw Pack, and she dared not hide anything more. She told Christine everything she knew.


    Christine listened quietly, systematically untangling the knotted mess of information.


    When the omega finished, she let out a slow breath and summarized. “So, there are three main issues.”


    She looked


    up, her voice low but carrying a sharp, restrained edge.


    “First, she put Tamara in charge of pack affairs but only allocated thirty percent of Ulrik’s sry to the public fund, while expecting the fund to cover everyone’s living expenses, medical runes, and everything else. That’s basically using a low–ranking she–wolf as a scapegoat to shoulder the Bloodmoon’s massive financial hole.”


    “Second, after the argument over money, she used an extreme tactic: she handed Tamara the scissors and told her to stab her own stomach, right there in front of her–and she was pregnant at the time. She used the act of carrying a cub as a form of psychological torture.”


    “Third, sheined that Tamara didn’t buy enough nutritional supplements, saying she was irresponsible, correct?”


    The omega nodded, her ears turning red. “Yes, those are the main things.”


    Christine’s wolf let out a low growl in her heart.


    She asked, “All of this happened before Tamara killed herself? And before this, were there other issues between them?”


    The omega thought for a moment, shook her head, then hesitated and added, “Nothing that caused a huge fight, but Gloria always looked down on Tamara, and her words… could be very disrespectful.”


    “Specifically how disrespectful? To what extent?” Christine pressed closer. Her aura was lowered, but the edge of her voice was chilling.


    The omega, who was used to this kind of scene–where such disrespect was just everyday life for she–wolves on the bottom rungs–gradually lost her nervousness.


    She answered honestly, “Mostly saying Tamara was low–born, poorly raised, petty about money, and couldn’t hold her mate’s attention.”


    “She said these things directly to Tamara’s face?” Christine confirmed.


    “Yes, ma’am.” The omega nodded. “Luna Gloria always said she had to say things face–to–face. She thought gossiping behind someone’s back made her look like a lowlife.”


    Christine’s frown deepened. She slowly curled her fingers, the ghostly outline of wolf ws forming beneath her knuckles.


    Even if she’s supposed to be willful, this is beyond reasonable.


    For one she–wolf to publicly degrade another like that meant the contempt ran deep.


    Christine cursed under her breath, realizing Gloria was worse than the “lowlife” she imed to hate.


    Christine felt a surge of genuine disgust for Gloria. Which of these actions was justifiable or defensible under packw?


    Ulrik walked heavily toward Rosemary’s room. His Alpha pheromones were a mess, and he struggled to suppress them at the door, afraid of startling the elderly, recuperating she–wolf.


    He pushed the door open, his face expressionless, his voice hoarse. “The child is gone.”


    The room smelled of calming herbs. Isaiah was sitting in a chair, keeping Rosemarypany.


    Hearing the words “the child is gone,” Isaiah shot up from the chair. The chair scraped loudly across the floor. He asked, utterly shocked, “Born… with no vital signs?”


    eyes burning “We almost lost both Gloria and the child.” Ulrik turned to look at Rosemary, his with grief and rage. The wolf in his chest was mming hard, threatening to burst out.


    Rosemary’s face was deathly pale. Her lips trembled before she managed a shaky defense.


    s


    “How was I supposed to know she was so fragile? That one fall would cause such a disaster. She seemed fine every other day…”


    “Shut up!” Isaiah’s typically weak Alpha aura surprisingly red up now. He was livid. “How could you do this? Gloria was carrying your grandson, and you threw a medicine cup at her? If you wanted someone to kneel, why didn’t you go yourself?”


    Rosemary looked stunned; Isaiah almost never spoke to her with such ferocity.


    After a pause,


    she started shaking with anger, her pheromones spilling out erratically. “Are you out of your mind? You want me to apologize? What about the dignity of Bloodmoon? If I apologize in front of strangers to beg for medicine, where does that leave the reputation of the entire pack?”


    Sara Lili


    <strong>Sara Lili</strong> is a daring romance writer who turns icyndscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of d’s breathtaking cold.