"What the hell, Damian? You brought her here?" Isabella's voice rang out, sharp and piercing, filling the air with anger, jealousy, and hurt. Her eyes blazed with fury, her cheeks flushed crimson, and her body quivered with emotion.
Damian remained seated on his throne, his expression unreadable, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Isabella. His posture was regal, exuding an air of calm authority, even in the face of Isabella's outburst. His dark hair was slicked back, and his sharp jawline was set in a determined line.
"With all due respect, Master, she's a werewolf," Isabella added, her voice dripping with disdain.
"I think you've already thrown respect out the window," Damian replied, his voice steady and composed, though his gaze flickered with a hint of frustration.
