My instincts kick in before anger and blinding emotion settle, and I immediately melt behind the walls of my mask of indifference, my back straight, my chin up, my lips slightly parted, and my eyes focused straight ahead.
Cornelia’s eyes widen.
She is familiar with this look.
Much like everyone who was born in our way of life is.
“A Rhys?” She freezes, her body rigid in shock and dare I say it in anger. “The favorite too.”
She knows who I am.
Just like I know who she is.
But this is not the Cornelia I remember. This is not the same quiet girl in the corner, politely and obediently following every mutter or order that her mother shot her way. This is not the same girl that has presented herself to every unmated Alpha, her head bowed low and her eyes staring at her feet. That was a
