Eventual Luna
They brought us to a large pair of black iron doors engraved with the sigil of the Iron Fang—an open jaw with jagged fangs, poised to crush.
One guard knocked once. The doors groaned open from within.
A wave of warmth spilled out from a massive hall. At its center stood a long obsidian table, flanked by high-backed chairs. There were eight people seated already, their eyes locked on us as we entered. At the head was a tall man with storm-gray eyes, cloaked in deep charcoal leathers. He didn’t need to rise for his presence to be felt.
Alpha Regal.
Beside him, equally composed and unreadable, was a striking woman with silver-streaked black hair braided tightly over one shoulder. Her eyes were
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