POV: Tristan
The morning assembly was a staged play of victory, and every wolf in the Silver Creek had been summoned to watch the final act. The courtyard was packed, the air thick with the smell of wet wool and the lingering scent of last night’s bonfires. My father sat on the high stone dais, his face a mask of iron, while Silas stood at his right hand like a triumphant general.
Nora stood just below them. She was dressed in white furs, her hair a flame against the gray morning sky. She looked radiant, the very picture of the "pure" mate the pack had been robbed of by an Omega’s "trickery."
"The darkness has been purged!" Silas’s voice boomed, echoing off the fortress walls. "The mountain has taken back what was never ours. Now, we must look to the future. We must heal the wound left
