An attack like this had also occurred once before, when Edmund was close to entering his rut cycle, far worse than a simple fever.
"Say what you mean," Edmund snapped coldly. "I know you've already thought it through."
Edmund flicked his sword to the side, shaking off the blood that clung to the blade. Crimson pooled beneath his boots, staining the carpet so badly he already knew they would have to replace every carpet and wallpaper in the palace. He didn't want his wife to smell blood lingering in their home.
"Only three people know about your illness; Dr. Celdric, Sir Dorne, and myself. Well, four, if you count your wife, but we both know she's not the one." Leofric stomped down hard on another werewolf's skull before adding, "Dr. Celdric is a deer. He'd never side with the Blackpeak Pack because those filthy dogs only ever turn weaker beasts into slaves and breeding stock."
