Henrietta knew who he was the moment she saw him.
Elder Vaelor of the High Council.
He stood just beyond the gazebo, silver hair catching the light, ceremonial bearing unmistakable even without the runic armor she remembered from the manor corridors. His presence pressed against the air itself.
It was the kind that did not announce arrival because it expected acknowledgment.
Her fingers tightened around the teacup, though her expression remained calm.
'So, he wasn't looking for Gideon, after all,' she realized.
Her instincts helped her to read the room. Not only that, when she first met him, she could see the hatred lingering in his eyes. He came from the High Council of the Werewolf Society.
She shouldn't be surprised anymore if this man were opposed to her staying here in this
