Marella watched Esmeray closely. She expected some show of resistance from the girl. After all, Esmeray had gallivanted off to sleep with the first man she met, and she did have a history of willful insubordination and disobedience.
The Queen of Ranjord winced as Isolde’s claws dug into her skin. She had been taking care of Esmeray’s pups, since Esmeray couldn’t have any connection to them. There were four . . . and three were Krustallos, the youngest two fire opal. The older girl, Umbra, had simple, plain opal. So Esmeray’s lover was definitely a Krustallos, of some type of opal. Bloodlines rarely just spawned in a litter of pups out of nowhere; in fact she only knew of one time that had happened, and even then nobody knew their origins for sure, and she hadn’t yet arrived to the realm. This was the Monokeros and Dracarae, supposedly.
She sat next to Aegir, wincing despite herself. Marella’s two beautiful daughters, probably going to be simply packed off to Sindri. To Sabertooth. She hated that it had come to this, that each pack had to offer its royal members up for potentially loveless marriages to ensure a simple peace.

“I’ll pull you in like the waves of the sea . . .”