The Moonfeast Hall shimmered with candlelight and polished frost. Banners bearing wolf sigils swayed from the rafters, and nobles adorned in ceremonial pelts filled the long tables, laughter and tension braided together in every toast.
Katherine entered on Damian's arm.
Whispers rippled through the room like wildfire over dry snow.
“She's finally showing her face again."
“She walks like a Luna…"
“No mark on her neck. It's a farce—"
Damian's hand tightened on hers.
“Let them talk," she murmured.
“I'd rather they choke."
They took their place at the high table. Goblets clinked. Toasts were made. But all eyes returned to her again and again, like moths to an unpredictable flame.
As the fourth course was cleared, an elder Alpha—gray-haired, sharp-eyed—stood to address the hall.
“Kin
