CH.5

The Elder Council building was a monolithic fortress of white marble and sheer glass, designed specifically to make anyone standing before it feel entirely insignificant.

Rory stood at the base of the massive front steps, her boots rooted to the pavement.

The air was thick with the scent of hundreds of wolves—power, aggression, and suffocating politics.

Her chest tightened with the familiar claws of panic scraping against her ribs. Underneath the long sleeves of her silk blouse, the silver bracelets burned a steady, agonizing rhythm into her flesh.

Rory focused on the burn, letting it anchor her.

Beside her stood Zane and on her other side was Kira.

"Ready?" Zane asked quietly, stepping up beside her.

"Let's go." Rory's voice was flat.

The moment they pushed through the heavy glass doors into the cavernous lobby, the atmosphere shifted.

Conversations died mid-sentence, heads turned as the air grew thick with the scent of judgment and fear.

Rory kept her chin high, her ice-blue eyes fixed straight ahead, but her heightened hearing caught every whispered fragment echoing off the marble walls.

"That's the Widow Queen." "I heard she slit his throat while he slept." "Look at her eyes. She's cursed. Mateless and broken."

The panic in Rory's chest flared, threatening to choke her. But fear was a luxury she couldn't afford. If they wanted a monster, she'd give them one.

She stopped walking.

The sudden halt caused a ripple of unease through the crowd.

Rory turned slowly, locking eyes with a cluster of well-dressed Alphas who'd been whispering the loudest.

"If you've got a theory about how I killed him, I suggest you say it to my face. Though I should warn you, the last prick who spoke to me without permission left the room with his jaw wired shut. Who wants to go first?" Rory projected her voice, letting the cold, sharp edge of her Alpha aura bleed into the room.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Rory let out a mocking scoff, turned back around and froze.

The crowd near the main entrance had parted, splitting down the middle like the Red Sea. Three men walked through the gap, but Rory only saw one.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, brutally composed and his bespoke suit cut with the kind of precision that made wealth look like a weapon.

His dark skin was flawless against the severe black of his clothes, and his face held a cold, carved beauty that didn't invite admiration so much as demand caution.

But it was his eyes that stopped the breath in Rory's lungs. They were a striking, luminous silver-grey and they were locked directly on her as if the rest of the lobby had ceased to be useful.

Evren Stormvale. This was Rory's first time meeting him.

He stared at her. The black hair. The ice-blue eyes. The sheer, unapologetic defiance radiating from her small frame.

She was magnificent. She was dangerous!

Evren stopped across the lobby.

Rory felt the weight of his stare peeling back her layers. It made her feel exposed… a sensation she violently despised.

Standing behind him was Tyson Warren. Tall and lean, with dark blond hair swept neatly away from an aristocratic face. He wore his charcoal suit like armor and his gray-green eyes missed nothing.

Tyson noticed the pause. "My King?"

"Aurora Moonridge?" Evren didn't look away from Rory.

"Yes." Tyson frowned slightly, observing the tension.

"Interesting." A dark, calculating glint flashed in Evren's eyes.

Of course Rory heard them. Wolves in the lobby were trying desperately not to breathe.

Kira leaned a fraction closer to Rory's ear. "Breathe," she murmured.

Rory quickly masked her sudden trembling with distilled arrogance and lifted her chin. "Take a picture, Your Majesty. It lasts longer. Or I can sign an autograph if you brought a pen."

Tyson let out a choked sound that might have been a laugh.

Evren's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch, which somehow felt more dangerous than a smile. Men like him weren't used to public insult.

The heavy mahogany doors to the inner chamber groaned open before anyone could respond and a stern-faced guard struck a staff against the floor. "The Elder Council is now in session. All summoned parties, please enter!"

Rory broke eye contact first, turning on her heel and marching into the chamber.

Evren watched her go with a slight arch on his sexy lips.

The Council chamber was circular, built like an arena pretending to be a courtroom. Five Elders sat on the raised dais beneath the moon crest. Around them, the great packs filled the galleries: Blood Ridge in dark red, Iron Fang in steel gray, lesser Alphas packed behind them like vultures waiting for permission.

Rory took her place at the center podium while Zane and Kira remained behind her left shoulder.

Evren didn't join the floor. He ascended to the royal viewing box with Tyson and sat above the chamber like he owned the air. Perhaps he did. The room had shifted around him since he entered.

Even from up there, she could feel his eyes burning into her skin.

Elder Matthias leaned forward. His white hair fell around his face in thin, saintly wisps, which Rory found offensive given the man's personality.

"Aurora of the East Coast. You're summoned to answer for the escalating violence. We have reports of territorial violations and unprovoked attacks against the neighboring packs."

Rory gripped the edges of the podium. "With all due respect, Elder, your reports are absolute bullshit!"