Lenora's POV
I stood up.
The gallery rail was at chest height. I gripped it and looked out at the council chamber — the four hundred faces, the torch light, the red moon now visible through the high windows, bleeding its light across stone.
"The Alpha's judgment," I said, "is not what requires addressing tonight."
Four hundred people looked up.
The silence was total.
I reached up and pushed the hood back from my face.
Marcelline's expression did not break. But her hand went to the embroidered cuff again — and this time, it didn't let go.
Someone in the crowd said it first. Then it moved through the chamber like a wave.
Lenora Vale.
Bramwell, at the dais, turned and looked at me. His face — in front of four hundred people, at the most politically exposed moment of his life — was c
