His Contractual Luna: Bought by the Beast
"What do you mean she didn't have a choice? The medical board guidelines clearly state—"
"The medical board doesn't govern death-matches, Agnes," a sharp, venomous voice interrupted.
The tent flap pulled back fully, admitting Alpha Morrigan Nightbane. Agnes’s stepmother wore a flawless, slate-gray corporate suit that looked entirely too clean for the blood-soaked backstage of the underground leagues. Behind her stood two hulking border heralds, their coats bearing the sigil of the High Council.
"What are you doing here, Morrigan?" Agnes stepped between her stepmother and the injured Maeve. "The fight is over. Maeve lost. We're packing up the camp gear and heading back to the Vance Gym."