The dining hall was alive with the hum of voices, laughter that sounded too sharp, the clink of silverware against porcelain. Banners of Celestia hung high, flickering torchlight casting the wolf sigil in dancing shadows across the stone walls. Trays of roasted venison and honeyed breads filled the tables, wine flowing like rivers in goblets of silver.
Evandra sat at the head table beside Lefu, flanked by Balor, Tristan, and Osiris. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her body tight with nerves. The earlier ceremony had been overwhelming enough, but now—here, seated between the four men who bound her fate—every gaze in the room felt like it pressed upon her.
They buzzed about Lefu’s announcement, the packs whispering behind their hands. Some looked on in awe, others in confusion, a few with
