Snow Luna
They each dropped a few drops of blood into the silver bowl of water, drank from it, and then sealed it with a kiss.
“Lycan tradition,” Knox whispered. “Symbolic, but binding.”
The moment the kiss ended, Knox disappeared into the gathering, swallowed by well-wishers and duties, leaving Lydia stunned and alone.
She didn’t even have time to process the weight of what had happened. The first congratulations blurred together until two voices pierced the crowd.
“Well, well,” said a honey-sweet voice laced with poison.
Lydia turned.
Two girls stepped forward. Blond hair. Sharp eyes.
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