Fiona's POV
I was going to throw up.
My palms were sweating under the silk sleeves of my dress.
The entire high table stretched out in front of me — lined with silver goblets, roasted meat, and the watchful eyes of the elders.
The whole pack had come to dinner.
Everyone.
And somehow...
I was sitting at the Alpha’s table.
Right beside Ragnar.
His father sat at the head of the table — cold, stoic, and silent — like he had been carved straight out of stone.
The rest of the elders were muttering low conversations around him — the same men who had spent years whispering behind my back.
Wolfless girl. Useless girl. Broken girl.
I clenched my fists under the table, trying to drown out the memories...
But then Ragnar's knee brushed against mine under the table — a slow, deliberate tou
