Third Person
The conference hall was decorated with decorum. Shimmering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystal lights falling across the room. Black, purple, and gold drapes spread across the windows, bearing Darkmoon’s crest. Banners hung on the walls, and guards stood at every corner, steady, calm, and still. Their presence was firm, and their eyes glanced around with precision and focus.
Each table carried a bottle of water, no alcoholic drink, and a bottle of alcoholic champagne. Glasses were placed according to the number of representatives per invite.
For the warlocks, only two representatives had accompanied the returned invitation; for the witches, three; and packs came in tens. For alphas who couldn’t bring their Lunas, they filled the gap with nobles and other import
