NARRATOR
The throne room had never felt colder.
It was built to impress—with towering marble pillars, golden latticework around arched windows, and a floor so polished it reflected the sorrow of every soul who dared walk across it. But today, that cold didn’t come from stone. It came from the people who stood within it, from the choices made.
And from the woman laughing at the center of it all.
Alexa stood tall in her war robes, her hair cascading in crimson curls, her eyes alive with a cruel sort of glee. The laughter bubbling from her lips was shrill, victorious, echoing through the hall like a dagger against glass. She had dismissed the pack members, and the elders too. This moment was for her.
In chains, at her feet, knelt Mira and Luca.
Blood crusted Luca’s temple. Mira’s face
