By the next evening, the entire supernatural world was watching. The Werewolf Council Hall had never looked so cold. Tall black pillars lined the circular chamber like silent judges. Silver wolf crests gleamed beneath torchlight. Rows of elevated seats curved around the center floor where the accused stood beneath everyone’s gaze. It was built to intimidate. To expose weakness. To crush scandal. To remind even the strongest Alpha that power could still be taken away. Tonight— it was packed. Council elders. Alpha leaders. Luna consorts. Pack representatives. Political rivals pretending to be neutral. And far too many eyes hungry for blood. Violetta felt every single one of them the moment she stepped through the grand doors. A murmur swept the room instantly. Not loud. But sharp. Interested. Cruel. Because now they weren’t just looking at Draven Blackwood— they were looking at the woman who had chosen to walk in beside him. Draven’s hand settled at the small of her back
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