Lyra’s POV
The five days leading up to the promotion ceremony proved to be a masterclass in psychological warfare.
Though I attended every Vanguard training session—pushing my body through the grueling mud and blood of the sparring rings with the stoic, unbreakable discipline of a frontline soldier—I absolutely refused to engage with the pack’s petty drama.
I ignored the whispers of the lower-ranking wolves, brushed off the venomous glares Selena shot my way whenever she paraded across the observation deck in her pristine gowns, and completely dismissed Anton, who strutted around the courtyard with the puffed-up, thoroughly unearned arrogance of a male who believed he had finally put me in my place.
While the coward puffed his chest and the Princess planned her perfect coronation wardr
