"No," Liora said, backing away from the bars until her back hit the silk cushions piled against the rear of the cage. "No, they wouldn't....."
"The treaty required a bride of royal blood," Veyra continued, merciless. "A sacrifice to seal the peace between humans and werewolves. And you, the expendable princess, were the perfect choice. No political prospects. No strategic marriage alliances. Just the quiet middle child nobody would miss."
Tears burned Liora's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of these creatures. Not when everything she'd ever known had just shattered around her.
"Why am I in a cage?" she demanded, forcing steel into her voice even as her world crumbled. "The treaty, if there was a treaty, I'm supposed to be a bride, not a prisoner."
"Oh, you're a prisoner, all right," Veyra said softly, dangerously. "Because we know the truth about you, Princess Liora Ashenbane."
The way she said Liora's full name made her blood run cold. The private elevator at the far end of the penthouse dinged softly. The doors slid open, and the other werewolves immediately straightened, heads bowing in deference, as a figure stepped out.
If the others were predators, this man was death itself.
He was massive, at least six and a half feet of pure muscle and controlled violence, wearing a tailored black suit that probably cost more than a car. Dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun, revealing a face that was brutally handsome and completely merciless. Scars marked his neck, pale against tanned skin, visible above his collar. A Patek Philippe watch gleamed on his wrist. He looked like he'd stepped out of a Fortune 500 boardroom, except for his eyes. Those eyes, burning amber, brighter than all the others, fixed on Liora, and she forgot how to breathe.
This was an Alpha. This was a king among wolves. This was the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen.
"Alpha Thessian," Veyra said, bowing her head. "She's awake."
Thessian Nightfang didn't acknowledge the greeting. He moved toward the cage with predatory intent, his Italian leather shoes silent on the marble floor. In his hand was a manila folder, and the way his fingers gripped it, knuckles white, the folder crumpled, spoke of barely leashed violence. He stopped at the cage and simply stared at her.
The silence stretched. Liora's heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She wanted to speak, to demand answers, to defend herself, but the look in his eyes froze the words in her throat. This was a man who had already decided she was guilty.
Without warning, Thessian opened the folder and pulled out a photograph. He threw it against the bars of the cage. It fluttered to the floor inside, landing face-up at Liora's feet. Liora looked down and immediately wished she hadn't.
It was a crime scene photo. A woman, beautiful even in death, with long dark hair and delicate features, lying in a pool of blood. Her chest was torn open, silver bullets visible in the wounds. Her eyes were still open, frozen in a moment of horror and pain.
"That's what you did," Thessian said, his voice flat. Empty. The most dangerous kind of quiet.
"I didn't....." Liora started, backing away from the photo.
Another photograph hit the bars. Then another. Then another. Bodies. So many bodies. Women. Children. An elderly man with gray in his hair. All of them shot, all of them bleeding, all of them dead.
"Stop," Liora whispered, pressing herself against the back of the cage. "Please stop....."
But Thessian didn't stop. He methodically threw photograph after photograph into the cage, each one a testament to horror. A little girl who couldn't have been more than six. Twin boys, their hands still clutching each other. A pregnant woman, her hand on her belly even in death.
"That's my mate," Thessian said finally, his voice still eerily calm. He pulled out one more photograph, a candid shot of the dark-haired woman from the first photo, this time alive and laughing, a little girl on her hip. "Aria Nightfang. Luna of the Shadowpine Pack. Mother to my daughter. Dead because of you."
"I didn't do this," Liora sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she was surrounded by images of death. "I swear I didn't, I don't even know where Blackmoor is, I've never hurt anyone....."
Thessian pulled out his phone and swiped to a video. He turned it toward her, and the screen showed security footage, night vision, a tactical assault on what looked like a residential compound. And leading the attack, Liora's face. Her exact face. Shouting orders. Directing soldiers. Firing a weapon.