Battal was about to say something when Voren began to explain his demand, his voice cold and measured, every word edged with controlled fury.
"The warrior Corvine killed contested for the hand of a princess. It was a competition, and your warrior lost." He paused, letting the words sink in, pure contempt in his tone. "Shame on him."
Battal's gaze darkened at Voren's words, his jaw tightening with barely suppressed rage that made his eyes burn, but Voren was not done.
"The witch you sent to my pack to steal the crown deserved to die because she trespassed, so technically, you killed her by sending her over." His voice was steady, unyielding, leaving no room for argument.
"The crown you claim to be yours will be returned, but not to you. You have committed too many crimes to wear it. If I meet a Lycan worthy enough to wear it, I shall release it, but as for those two white wolves, you have no right to lay claim to them."
