The silence of Rowan’s old study felt less like a sanctuary and more like a trap.
Outside the high arched windows, midsummer’s heat clung to the stone walls of the Moonridge palace. Inside, the ghosts of the morning’s disastrous High Council lingered in the air.
Selene sat behind the massive mahogany desk, her hands resting flat against the wood. Before her lay the fractured reality of her kingdom. She had spread out everything she knew, pieces of a puzzle that refused to lock together.
There were reports of increasingly bold rogue attacks along the borders. There was the relentless pressure from Elder Marrow and the Council, practically screaming to parade ten-year-old Lucian in the Alpha’s Seat to mask their own security failures. Hovering over it all was Lucian’s sensory awakening—a
