Chapter 356
Alpha Marcus and Luna Victoria Hyde stood near the entrance, looking like cracked porcelain vases glued back together by desperation. Since the fall of their Pack and their absorption into Blackwood territory, they had been stripped of everything but their titles. Now, standing in the heart of the Marshall stronghold, they reeked of anxiety — a pungent, sour smell, like milk left out in the sun, clashing violently with the beeswax and old money that permeated the hall.
Click. Click. Click.
The rhythmic sound of an ebony cane striking marble echoed from the floor above. What little conversation existed died instantly.
Gigi Marshall descended the grand staircase. She wore a suit of sharp charcoal wool that looked like armor, and her silver hair was pulled back into a severe knot. She didn’t look like a grandmother — she looked like an executioner who enjoyed her work.
Marcus and Victoria bowed their heads hastily. “Matriarch Marshall,” Marcus stammered, his voice trembling. “We are honored to be—”
Gigi didn’t even slow down. She reached the bottom step and stopped, her eyes sweeping over them with the indifference of a predator regarding carrion.
“Save your breath, Marcus,” she cut him off, her voice crisp and cold. “The air in this hall is expensive. Do not waste it with empty pleasantries.”
She stepped closer, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Your scent has turned. You smell of fear and spoiled milk. Is this what remains of the Hyde bloodline? A man who smells like a frightened pup?”
Marcus flinched, his face draining of color. Gigi didn’t wait for an answer. She turned her gaze to Victoria, who was staring at the floor.
“And you,” Gigi said softly, dangerously. “A Luna who could not discipline her own child. You let your son run wild, Victoria. You let him bring ruin to your doorstep because you were too weak to be a mother.”
Victoria let out a small, choked sob, but she didn’t dare look up.
The humiliation was absolute. Gigi was stripping them bare before a single word of business had been spoken.
Marcus, perhaps sensing that he was losing whatever shred of dignity he had left, suddenly straightened his spine. His eyes darted to me, and I saw a flash of desperate malice. He needed a target — someone lower on the food chain than himself.
“We may have failed in some regards, Matriarch,” Marcus said, his voice finding a thin, reedy strength. “But at least we kept our bloodline pure.” He gestured sharply at me. “To have a wolfless girl standing here, at a Council of War? It insults the very strength you claim to uphold. How can she—”
BANG.
The sound cracked like a gunshot. Gigi had lifted her cane and brought it down onto the marble with terrifying force. The echo rang through the vaulted ceiling.
Silence, heavy and suffocating, crashed down on the room.
Gigi turned slowly to face Marcus. Her eyes were glowing with a faint amber luminescence — her Lycan beast surfacing.
“You speak of strength?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper that carried more weight than a scream. She walked toward Marcus until she was inches from his face. “This girl walked into the den of a monster to save my grandson. She faced torture and death while you were busy hiding your son’s crimes.”
.