The velvet lined walls of the grand hall seemed to pulse with a mockery only Valerie could feel. The last time she had stood in the center of this room, a crown of winter lilies had rested on her head and the entire Blackwood Pack had bowed their heads in a deafening roar of Luna! Today, the only thing resting on her skin was a tattered, grey linen tunic that smelled of lye and damp cellar air. The fabric was so thin it caught on the rough skin of her palms, palms that were still raw from scrubbing the kitchen floors since four in the morning.Keep your head down, 402, a senior servant hissed, shoving a heavy silver tray into Valerie's hands. And don't you dare spill a drop. If you stain a guest's suit, Alpha Killian will have your skin for the rug.Valerie didn't look up. My name is Valerie.Not tonight it isn't, the servant snapped. Tonight you're a ghost. Now move. The Blood Moon delegation is thirsty.Valerie took a breath, the scent of expensive wine and roasted stag hitting her
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