The words "blood magic" falling from the young Omega's trembling lips instantly turned the air in the grand hall into a solid block of ice.
Everyone held their collective breath, their eyes locked onto the ancient Alpha bound in heavy silver chains. Yet, despite the horrific weight of the accusation thrown at him, Uncle Samuel did not utter a single word. He kept his lips firmly sealed, merely clenching his jaw with a raw, defiant stubbornness. His unbothered silence, that mocking composure upon his weathered face, became the final spark that ignited the ticking bomb in the room.
Varg went absolutely feral at his uncle's defiant silence. I could see the predatory beast inside him snapping its chains, the unadulterated green fire burning like hot coals in his eyes.
"Are you playing a joke on me, messing with me with this fuck-all game just because you're my goddamn uncle, huh?!" he roared in a low, dangerous growl.
