Mira's POV
The Ashford dining hall glittered in a way Blackwood's own great hall rarely bothered with, crystal and polished silver catching candlelight at every turn, visiting warriors and their families arranged along tables draped in fabric far too fine for anyone to spill wine on without consequence. I sat beside Rowan near the head of the table, the silver dress settling comfortably now that the initial nerves of arrival had worn off, and found myself, despite everything still unresolved between us, genuinely enjoying the evening.
Alpha Ashford proved considerably warmer than I expected from someone holding that much power, an older man with a booming laugh and an obvious fondness for Rowan that suggested years of history between their packs. His eldest son, Callum, sat across from m
