|Snow|
“Congratulations, Luna,” came the familiar voice of Lance Brown, one of the vassal alphas from our southern territory. His broad smile was polished, formal, as if he’d practiced it in the mirror before arriving. He was the fifth person to offer me congratulations today—and I knew he wouldn’t be the last.
I mustered a smile, but inside, the social strain was already beginning to wear me down. The sheer thought of having to engage with so many people, to plaster on pleasantries while they took turns congratulating me as if I were a national treasure on display, was exhausting.
And don’t even get me started on the celebration itself. Two whole weeks of festivities—just because I was pregnant? It sounded like overkill. No, it was overkill. Yet somehow, Kairos and Stephanie, who could
