I turn, fury burning. “Assurances? My daughter is fighting for her life, and you dare…” But her words had only confirmed what Rowan was talking about, the council was desperate but I was the least concerned about that.
“We want stability,” she cuts in. “If she survives, she remains fragile. That is not strength. The pack needs certainty. A Luna. An heir who can lead.”
My fist slams the table, wood splintering beneath the blow. “Myra is my heir. You think I care about politics while she can’t breathe?”
Elder Helen’s lips thin. “Love doesn’t secure a throne. The council speaks of Delilah.”
The name is venom on my tongue. “Delilah is a vulture circling a child’s sickness. I’ll never put her near my crown.”
Rowan rises, cautious. “Vincent… they’re not wrong. The pack is scared. Myra’s fra
