The morning of the meeting arrived beneath a gray sky, the air cool and carrying a thin mist that curled over the pack grounds. Freya sat before her mirror, fingers absently tugging at the hem of her gown. Her heart beat in an anxious rhythm, louder than the chirping of the birds outside. Samantha stood beside her, brushing her hair with gentle strokes while murmuring words of encouragement.
“You will be fine,” Samantha said softly. “It is only a meeting. Nothing you cannot handle.”
Freya nodded but did not answer. She had long since learned to mask her nerves with silence.
The door creaked open, and a lively voice spilled into the room. “There you are!”
Rita, Xavier’s mate, entered with her usual cheer. She appeared younger than Samantha, closer to Freya’s own age, and from the moment
