K A E L O R
Half the wolves in the Silver Hall had already decided I was too wounded to rule.
The rest were waiting for me to prove them right. I gave them neither.
Moon-glass chandeliers burned above pale banners and polished stone, every surface bright enough to expose a tremor.
My wound pulled beneath the formal black coat with each step, hot and deliberate, as if the blade were still lodged under my ribs. I kept my shoulders level.
Taren moved beside me without looking over.
“If you bleed through that coat, I will personally drag you back to the healer.”
“You would enjoy the attempt.”
“I would enjoy surviving it.”
The nearest conversations died as we passed.
Visiting Alphas, elders, war captains—wolves who had crossed three territories before moonrise because the Guild had se
