Matters concerning werewolves were simple for Voren. Straightforward. Cut and dry. But she-wolves? That was an entirely different battlefield. As a King, a father, and a husband, his heart ached for his children. The weight of it pressed down on him, heavy and unrelenting.
Pack members were supposed to enjoy the protection of their packs. That was the sacred promise, the foundation upon which their society was built.
So if things like this kept happening, if she-wolves could be abused and threatened and silenced, then what was the difference between the packs and the rogues? What was the point of borders and titles and laws if the most vulnerable among them suffered in the shadows?
He knew Seraphine was better at this. That was why she was his queen. Not just his mate, not just the mother of his children, but his partner in every sense. The one who could navigate the treacherous waters of emotion and justice with grace and precision.
