“It is fine. I am sure Rhea is just tired,” Malachi intervened.
Years ago, my heart would have softened at his protection. Now, I saw it for what it was—a pathetic trap to keep me in my place.
“Come. Let us go to the feast,” Malachi said.
I stayed quiet and let him lead me to the hall. The fire was roaring, and the pack was already eating. Marc and the other pups were playing near the hearth, but his face turned sour the moment he scented me.
“Look, Marc! Your mother is here!” one of the pack members called out.
Marc sneered, his lip curling. “She is not my mother!”
I stood frozen as Malachi sighed and grabbed Marc by the shoulder.
“We do not speak such words, Marc. Rhea is your mother. She has raised you since you were a cub,” Malachi stated.
Marc’s face twisted with a dark look. “No! She can never be my Luna mother. Everyone, look at her! This is the woman who killed my real mother!”
Whispers moved through the hall like a cold wind. The guests stared at me, their eyes judgmental.
“She is only the boy’s aunt.” “Why does the pup hate her so much?” “It is clear she has not cared for him well.”
“Apologize to her now,” Malachi commanded Marc.