Matriarch Genevieve's POV
I surveyed the scene before me, my blood running cold at the desecration of my great-granddaughter's grave. Scattered flowers, a broken crystal unicorn—evidence of disrespect that confirmed everything Aurelia had told me. The righteous anger I'd been containing since our private conversation days ago threatened to erupt as I locked eyes with Natalie Beaumont.
"Your Majesty," Natalie curtsied, her false deference not hiding the blood smeared across her face. "I'm afraid Aurelia has suffered a breakdown. She attacked me while I was paying respects to little Violet."
I ignored her, turning instead to my grandson. "Julian."
He stepped forward, his posture rigid with tension. "Grandmother, this isn't the time—"
"Silence." My command wasn't enhanced with pack magic, but five decades as matriarch had given my voice enough authority to stop even an Alpha King in his tracks.
