KARLA HUDSON
The council chamber still reeked of blood.
I stood rigid among the elders, nails digging deep crescents into my palms as I watched Damian hold that human girl like she was something precious. Aria leaned heavily against his side, blood streaking her chin, silver fur still fading from her arms in pathetic, uneven patches. Yet he looked at her like she was the only thing in the room that mattered, his arm locked around her waist like she might break if he let go.
My chest twisted slightly.
Years of waiting. Years of training until my muscles screamed. Years of positioning myself perfectly at his side through every meeting, every battle, every late-night strategy session where I poured my knowledge and loyalty at his feet. My blood was pure. My lineage is strong. I
