One month later.
The air at Le Refuge du Loup was no longer suffocating with secrets or stained with blood. The sprawling Alpine chalet had been completely rebuilt, the iron chains in the East Wing replaced with massive, open-concept glass walls that welcomed the winter sun.
Tonight, however, the chalet belonged to the moon.
Elara stood before the antique floor-length mirror in the master suite, her breath catching in her throat. She had worn velvet to face the Council and tailored silk to face her father. But tonight, she was dressed for her Pack.
The ceremonial gown was a masterpiece of midnight-blue tulle and silver thread, designed to look like a starry night sky draped over the snow. The bodice clung tightly to her curves, heavily embroidered with silver beadwork that caught t
