My heart beats so forcefully that the echo resonates in my skull, drowning out most of the murmurs rippling through the gathered pack. The courtyard is awash in a soft, flickering radiance that seems to animate the night itself, each blade of grass glints with an unearthly sheen beneath the array of hanging lanterns. The entire scene has a charged quality, as though the air is thick with withheld breath, waiting to see how this final presentation will unfold.
Damien stands beside me on a makeshift platform, a few sturdy planks elevated at the courtyard’s center, yet it feels like a grand stage. From this vantage, I see a sea of faces: members of the pack whose loyalty is unquestioned, onlookers from nearby enclaves, and even a handful of outsiders who have been invited, or perhaps allowed
