SHADOWED AMBITIONS.
Genevieve's chamber was filled with a heavy silence. Silas stood by the arched window, with his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the lantern lit streets below.
The capital was alive tonight, in celebration of the coming blood moon. A night when most wolves would be at their strongest, but Silas didn't care. His mind was elsewhere.
Lounging behind him was Genevieve. Her crimson night dress flowing over the cushion. Its fitted bodice hugged her figure so much that it stretched over the soft swell of her belly. Thin straps rested on her shoulders, leaving her arms bare.
She lifted a goblet to her lips, sipping slowly, her face calm and unreadable.
“They should have sent word by now,” Silas muttered, his jaw tight.
Genevieve exhaled. She was losing patie
