The walls felt closer than they should have.
Lucien stood at the edge of the council chamber, barely listening to the voices rising and falling around him. Words blurred together—alliances, stability, territory, obligation.
None of it settled.
None of it felt right.
His chest felt tight.
There was no anger and he felt absolutely no fear.
There was something else.
Some kind of Pressure.
Like something inside him was pushing back against everything being said.
Seraphine’s voice carried across the chamber.
Calm.
Measured.
Controlled.
He didn’t need to hear the words.
He already knew them.
Future.
Union.
Necessity.
The same arguments repeated in different forms.
Lucien exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening.
His wolf shifted beneath his skin.
Restless.
He was not agreeing and
