The morning of the summit arrived not with sunlight, but with a sky the color of cold slate.
I stood in front of the tall mirror in Caleb’s quarters, watching the woman in the glass. She wore a gown of heavy, midnight-black velvet, structured with dark leather armor across the ribs and silver thread woven through the sleeves. The neckline was high, framing the faint, faded mark on my throat, while my right hand remained ungloved. The silver crescent branded into my palm gave off a soft, steady glow that no fabric could fully hide.
I was no longer hiding it anyway.
Footsteps echoed softly behind me. Caleb appeared in the mirror’s reflection. He wore his full Alpha battle dress—black leather, silver buckles, and a heavy cloak lined with winter fur. His dark hair was pulled back, emphasiz
