Voren calmly walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and rinsed every last trace of blood from his hands. The crimson water swirled down the drain until it ran clear.
After checking that not a single stain remained on his suit, he straightened his cuffs with the same care he might use before a business meeting and strolled out of the restroom as though nothing unusual had happened at all.
His face revealed nothing, no anger, no guilt, no satisfaction.
The guests stared at him in pure confusion. Could Alpha Voren really have done something this savage? Looking at the calm, composed expression on his face, it seemed almost impossible.
Yet no one else had entered that restroom, and the two Alphas had already been carried off to the pack hospital. They were Alphas, after all, and if either of them died it would mean open war for whoever was responsible.
