The Crescent Heir
Tonight, even he walked on eggshells.
"Chained in the cellar. Silver-bound and wolfsbane-laced."
Deimos's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "She won't shift. She won't heal. She'll feel everything."
Dubois's fork clattered against his plate. "You're torturing your own mate? A woman you took blood oaths with?"
"One more word, uncle, and I'll forget we share blood."
Deimos's eyes burned crimson—an impossibility outside the full moon, yet there it was. The mark of a White Alpha. The genetic anomaly that made him both revered and feared. "Test me tonight, and you'll learn why Father chose me over your son to lead this pack."