I remember the day I rejected Isla as if it were yesterday, a day that not only rewrote my fate but the future of our pack. Now, seated in the stone hall of Silver Moon's meeting chamber, those memories still burned like embers. Isla, once my first mate and confidante, had been cast aside in favor of Lena Stone-her stepsister, whose aloof, almost hostile nature had long been the subject of hushed pack gossip.
It was well known that Lena was indolent and habitually avoided our parties; she cared little for the daily functions of our society. And there was her mother, too-Madam Celeste-who paraded herself as if she were the mother of the future queen. Their presence all in contradiction with themselves weighed heavily on me now.
The conclave began in the same manner it always did: elders a
