Lucian
The Council chamber always smelled the same.
Old stone. Ink. wolf. Power held under restraint.
It didn’t matter that it sat on neutral territory, that its guards wore no crest and pledged to no king. The moment you stepped inside, the air itself reminded you what this place was built for: authority without comfort. Law without softness. Decisions that outlived the wolves who made them.
Kieran followed one step behind me as the inner doors shut, sealing out the corridor—and Emma.
The bond hummed immediately, sharp as a hook under my ribs. I felt her on the other side of the doors like a second pulse—tight, anxious, controlled only by sheer will. It took everything in me not to turn around and drag her in by the hand and tell the Council to choke on their rules.
Not yet, I remin
