Blood trickled down my forehead as I drove home, each drop fueling my rage. That pathetic excuse for a Luna had actually drawn blood. Me. Natalie Beaumont. The rightful Luna of the Silvercrest Pack.
I pressed a tissue to the wound, wincing at the sting. My hand came away red, and I smiled despite the pain. This injury was a gift—perfect ammunition against Aurelia. Julian would be furious when he saw what his mate had done to me.
The drive to my house—the luxurious residence Julian had given me upon my return—seemed interminable. By the time I pulled into my driveway, my head was throbbing, but my mind was clear. I needed to play this perfectly.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, studying the damage. The cut near my hairline wasn't deep, but it bled impressively. I dabbed at it again, deliberately smearing a bit more blood across my temple. Better.
