Dorian's pov
Ravenna's pack hall filled that night in a way I imagine it hadn't in years not for a feast, not for a council of war, but for something far harder to summon a pack toward: honesty.
"I don't know how to start this," Ravenna admitted, standing before her own gathered wolves with a discomfort that looked foreign on her sharp features. "I've led this pack twelve years by never once showing them a c***k in my composure. I don't know how to simply... open one on purpose."
"You don't have to make a speech," Ophelia said, still pale from the burned forest but steadier now, wrapped in a blanket near the hearth. "You just have to go first. That's the only rule. Someone has to go first, and it should be the one they trust to survive being vulnerable in front of them."
"And if I don
