Evan hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time. Not even when he was applying to the academy or when he started at the Werewolf Council. He gripped Kari’s hand as they crossed the training field toward the small stage. Rows of chairs stretched across the grass, many already filled with pack members.
Behind the stage the burned shell of the training hall stood like an accusation. Its placement was deliberate, a constant reminder of recent violence and a call for the pack to pull itself together.
His steps faltered as they drew closer and his heart picked up speed.
“Don’t get worked up,” Kari whispered, leaning against him. “Everything is fine. I’m right here.”
He looked into her pale blue eyes and felt the pressure in his chest ease. She loved him. She had asked him to mark her. That prom
