They believed they could make me look bad. Show me off like a criminal.

Michael was all icy authority and phony justice as he stood on that awful podium. Pretending to be the pack's savior, Matilda loomed behind him with softly gleaming silver eyes.

My group.

Like vultures in front of a feast, the crowd swarmed around the square, muttering. The boy held onto Matilda's hand tightly. They now refer to my son as a liar, turning my lovely weapon against me.

I grinned. No one was misled ...