Chapter 8
216words
She couldn't afford to offend either party.
These ten years, what Alaric did for me spread throughout London's werewolf circles.
Last year, some drunk heir had loudly suggested that a human like me must possess "special talents in the bedroom."
Within two weeks, Alaric had systematically dismantled that family's entire business empire.
But Camille couldn't risk offending the Lisa family just to defend me.
After all, no one truly believed a human could actually marry an Alpha.
The more powerful the Alpha, the more fickle they could be—today's beloved might be tomorrow's forgotten toy.
I showed no reaction.
I pulled out my phone, pulled up Alaric's contact, my finger hovering over the call button as I extended it toward Lisa.
"Since you're so concerned about Alaric's whereabouts, why don't you ask him yourself?"
Her smile vanished.
This was Alaric's strategy—when someone causes trouble, offer to call him directly. He'll handle it.
Though usually the threat alone was enough.
Lisa shot me a venomous glare but kept her mouth shut.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
Soon enough, I wouldn't need to rely on borrowed power.
The Thornfield Pack never imagined that the love which survived poverty and despair in Brighton would finally die this year in London's winter rain.
