Seliora snapped her gaze toward her, eyes glowing a dangerous crimson. "What did you just say?"
Natasha swallowed. "They… they've been constantly intimate, my lady. Since the prince arrived. Every night. Sometimes during the day. Often multiple ti—"
"Enough!" Seliora barked. Her nostrils flared, her fangs threatening to emerge.
Natasha took a quick step back. "I only repeat what I was told—"
"Go!" Seliora shouted. "Tell the prince I need to see him. I will be at the princess's building in a few minutes. Go! Now!"
Natasha bolted.
Left alone, Seliora took a deep, trembling breath and stood. Her body was stiff, her pride shattered, but her hatred had never burned brighter. She wasn't just going to sit and cry while a werewolf wore the crown. If Luna thought she had won, she was in for a vicious surprise.
"Let's see who really belongs by his side," she muttered.
*****