The council chamber of the Moonrise pack was no stranger to tension, but today the air was thick with something far more intense. A biting wind howled outside, rattling the leaded windows, and snow seemed to be just beyond the horizon, ready to blanket the world in white. Inside, the cold sunlight slanted across the polished stone table, casting long shadows on the grim faces of the assembled alphas and elders.
Aria sat at a smaller, secondary table, usually reserved for minor delegates or scribes. Today, she had been given the seat by unspoken decree, a silent observer in a situation that had spiraled out of control. Her pregnancy, now undeniably visible beneath her dark-blue tunic, hung in the air like a silent accusation. It had become the talk of the pack, the source of whispered rumo
