The courtyard was alive with movement, warriors sparring in the early sun, servants rushing between the long tables to prepare for the midday feast. Yet beneath the hum of daily routine, a tension brewed. The whispers had not ceased.
Everyone had noticed Selene’s decline. Her sharpness. Her outbursts. The way her smile faltered too quickly. But no one dared speak of it aloud—not when she still carried the title of Luna, not when the Alpha King himself had not challenged it.
Not until now.
Aria moved silently along the infirmary’s path, her arms laden with bandages and herbs. Her white apron was stained from hours of tending to warriors, her hair tied back in a loose knot. She kept her head down, ignoring the sneers and mutters that followed her.
“Still playing nurse, unwanted wolf?” on
