(Olivia's POV)
The council chamber felt suffocating as I took my seat beside Dominic. The elaborate wooden chairs, carved with pack symbols and histories, seemed to mock the fractures running through our leadership. Lady Margaret and the other council wives sat primly in their places, their faces masks of proper concern while their eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Lily's perfume drifted across the table, sickly sweet and triumphant. She'd positioned herself perfectly—close enough to Dominic to make her status clear, but not so close as to appear improper before the council.
Elder Marcus cleared his throat, his weathered hands smoothing a document before him. "The council is gathered to discuss matters of pack tradition and security. Lady Margaret has raised concerns about recent... depar
