Morwenna's POV
The moment the council doors opened, I felt it.
Not fear. Not dread.
Hunger.
The kind of hunger wolves have before they devour. The kind that doesn’t care if you scream.
The circular chamber was carved in black marble, lined with banners from the founding Packs—each one hanging like a funeral cloth. Thirteen council members sat high on their thrones, faces unreadable. Shadows wrapped around their boots, long and sharp. A dozen guards flanked the room, spears ready, their eyes never leaving me.
Leofric stood ahead of me. Regal. Silent. But he hadn’t touched me once since the night before. No guiding hand. No whispered assurances. Just cold strategy. I was on my own.
Fine.
I lifted my chin.
Let them see my throat, my mark, my defiance.
High Lord Velric rose from his
