NATALIAThe note was still on the table.I’d picked it up when I found it—unfolded it slowly, read the message twice, then set it down like it might burn through the wood. I hadn’t touched it since.Alpha Andrei of Moonshadow requests a private diplomatic audience with Ashmoor’s Luna.The words were
ANDREII arrived late.Not by accident.The war council was already seated, conversations murmuring low like the hush before a storm. Every Alpha turned when the double doors opened and I stepped into the ancient chamber.That was the point.Moonshadow didn’t ask for attention.We claimed it.I move
It was posturing. Power flexing. But there was truth in it.And opportunity.I waited for a pause. Then I spoke.“With respect,” I said, keeping my voice calm and clear, “the smaller packs aren’t avoiding responsibility. Many of us operate with leaner numbers and less buffer for loss. But I believe
NATALIAI woke before the sun.The hotel room was dim, touched only by the pale blue hush of pre-dawn light leaking through the curtains. For a long time, I lay still beneath the covers, eyes open, body taut with the remnants of the night before.I had seen him.And he had seen me.Andrei’s gaze had
It wouldn’t last long.***My rooms were too quiet.The fire was already lit when I returned, but I didn’t go near it. I poured myself a drink from the crystal decanter near the window and stood staring at the glass without raising it to my lips.Outside, the trees were turning. Leaves once vibrant
ANDREIThe summit hall shimmered with ceremony.Polished silverware gleamed beneath chandeliers that dripped light like frozen glass. Conversations hummed low, full of careful inflection and practiced restraint. Power moved here in glances, in seating arrangements, in who poured whose drink.I sat a