Her Rage. Her Power

The whole pack remained frozen, their breath held in reverence, or was it fear, as Lyra’s glowing hair crackled in the gloom, throwing strange silver light across the obsidian floor. No one spoke. No one dared. Not after the display they had just witnessed.

Kai’s thumb swept once across her thigh again. A subtle touch, grounding.

But then a voice cut through the silence like a jagged blade.

“Well,” came a high, cold drawl. “She certainly knows how to make an entrance.”

The entire room shifted. Heads turned slowly toward the voice, like vampires scenting blood.

Just as Lyra was trying to figure out the direction the voice was coming from, she heard it again. A soft drawl, smooth as venom.

“It’s good to see the Luna is not just a glowing decoration, but a glowing whore.”

The words didn’t echo. They landed like dead weight in the throne room, pulling everyone’s attention toward the far left.

A woman stepped forward from the line of werewolves, regal, sharp-featured, with silver threaded