With the elders’ relentless insistence, Lyria was finally summoned back into the hall.
The great doors creaked open, and she entered slowly, one hand pressed to her chest, her steps unsteady as though the weight of the room itself was crushing her fragile frame. Her face was pale, her lips slightly trembling—every inch the grieving, weakened Luna.
Kaden rose at once.
“Mother,” he said tightly, pulling out a chair beside him. “Sit. You’re unwell.”
Before she could lower herself, an elder slammed his staff against the stone floor.
“No,” Elder Hargun snapped. “She will stand.”
Kaden’s head whipped around. “You dare—?”
“You are not Alpha yet, boy,” another elder sneered. “And she is not above the law.”
Lyria inhaled sharply, swaying on her feet. “It’s alright, my son,” she murmured sof
