Claimed and Sold at the Lycan King's Ball
“An Alpha faces claws on the battlefield. A Luna faces venom at the dinner table. Historically, noblewomen used poison far more than claws to clear their path to the throne.”
Genevieve, standing at the front of the line with her friends flanking her, crossed her arms. Her nose crinkled in disgust. “This is a servant's work. A true northern noblewoman relies on her pack's loyalty, not weeds.”
“Loyalty doesn't stop your heart from seizing after a sip of wine, Lady Genevieve,” Morgana snapped. She pointed a finger at the first tray. “Identify.”
The court ladies stepped forward, whispering and guessing incorrectly. When they reached the silver-rimmed dish, one of the red haired noble smoothed he
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