Chapter 135

• Third Person's POV
• Anna's claws tapped idly against the crystal vase as she adjusted the moon-white blossoms, refusing to look up. The dim lanternfire of the Moonvale ancestral hall flickered across her face, throwing long shadows like fangs across the table.
• "Relax," she murmured finally, voice thin and sharp as a thorn. "He isn't dead. Killing a wolf outright is nothing. Leaving him half-alive, half-broken... that is the true art of torment."