Eloise’s POV
I could feel my hands growing colder by the second, as if the warmth in my body was seeping out and being stolen by the indifferent glances around me. Each look, each sideward glare from the wolves encircling the room, was a silent reminder of my place, of what I was, and of what I could never be.
The scent of my rank—unmistakably different, undeniably lower—hung in the air like a sour note, a constant, bitter reminder that no matter how finely dressed or groomed I appeared, I was an outsider here.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight, the echo of my heartbeat drumming a frantic rhythm in my ears. I hated this feeling, this gnawing insecurity that clenched my insides.
The words my maids had whispered to me earlier—You’ll be fine, my lady. You’ll outshine them all—sounded hol
