(Siena’s POV)
The grand hall of the Lycanthrope Council gleams with an almost oppressive elegance.
Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across marble floors, illuminating the faces of the pack representatives with an unforgiving brightness that reveals every calculation, every political maneuver written in their expressions.
The scent of power hangs in the air—old money, expensive cologne, and beneath it all, the unmistakable musk of predators watching for weakness.
The applause roars around me, loud and relentless, but it feels distant, like I'm hearing it through a thick pane of glass.
I stand on the platform, clutching the award in my hands—a polished silver plate engraved with the words Most Innovative Diplomatic Strategy. It's heavier than I expected, its sha
