Lucas asked. “The mercenaries tell us that the full fee was four million.” An irresistible amount. “That second payment would’ve cleaned out your pack’s savings.” The ocelot alpha curled his lip, but the healer spoke before he could spit out further insults. “How could you?” It was a shaky whisper. “That money was the only thing we had left to give the cubs. Their parents are gone, their grandparents are gone, their friends are gone! At least with that money, they could have a good life, have choices!” Baring his teeth at the elderly woman, the alpha said, “Shut up and get out.” He didn’t seem to notice the reaction of his soldiers, but Lucas did. The two were staring at their alpha not only in shock . . . but also in disgust. The healer was sacrosanct in a healthy pack. No one, no one in Lucas’s pack, would ever get away with insulting Tamsyn. He might disagree with her at times, might even get angry with her on very rare occasions, but even he would never talk to her in that ugly tone.
