I lost it. Before I could think, my hand moved—not with claws, but with a stinging, resounding slap that echoed through the room.
“How dare you?” I hissed.
Casey let out a piercing shriek, the sound of a wounded pup. In an instant, the door burst open. Malachi and Marc rushed in, their scents thick with alarm.
“What have you done, Rhea?” Malachi yelled, seeing Casey’s reddened cheek.
I didn't flinch. “What have I done? You hear her cry and you come running. Where were you when your son’s arrow was in my shoulder? Where were you when I collapsed in the dirt?”
“Evil woman!” Marc cried, shielding Casey. “She hurt her! She’s trying to kill Casey!”
“It is not her fault, Marc,” Casey sobbed, playing her part perfectly. “I came to beg her to stay for the sake of the pack... I offered her travel money, and she struck me.”
“Stop this madness, Casey! Stop playing the victim!” I snapped.
“No, you stop this, Rhea!” Malachi roared, his Alpha command vibrating in the small room. “I have been patient enough. I will take you back to the manor, but only if you kneel and apologize to Casey.”