Nefretiri
I stare at Amari, but I look less shocked than Fletcher does.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He demands, his hands turning into fists.
"The reason your father lost the war is simple," Turning to look at the old wolf, she gives him a fake look of sympathy. "We warned him repeatedly to leave Ivan alone. He could kill anyone except Sierra and the unborn child, but he let his passions get the better of his judgment, and you see the consequences."
"What does that have to do with my mate?" There was hunger in Fletcher's eyes now. A spark that hadn't been there before. His mate, the thing any werewolf craves more than their next breath. "How can you know that Ivan's firstborn is my mate?"
