Chapter 137 When Vengeance Wears A Crown"

• Ravena was, in truth, nothing like the woman she had once been. Once proud and wild in her spirit as a she-wolf, she now resembled a hollowed shadow of herself.
• They had laced her veins with wolfsbane, not once, but repeatedly, until her limbs trembled and her senses dulled to little more than instinct and pain.
• Her back bore the cruel marks of a flogging whip, deep welts crossing one another in a pattern only torment could design. The scent of silver was still faint upon her skin — a poison to her kind, used to weaken and silence her defiance.