The Grand Reception Hall was a sea of vibrant colors, glittering jewels, and overwhelming noise.
For the first time in centuries, two seats of power occupied the raised obsidian dais. Silra stood beside King Varik, looking out over the massive crowd. She had traded her worn combat leathers for a stunning, deep midnight-blue gown embroidered with subtle silver threads that caught the light with every movement. She looked every inch a royal, but inside, her stomach was tied in agonizing knots.
The heavy, suffocating weight of a thousand eyes was fixed entirely on her.
Delegation after delegation approached the dais. Alphas of powerful northern packs, merchants from the eastern trade routes, and newly freed Unlisted families from the south. They bowed deeply, offering lavish gifts of furs,
