"It was Ms. Thornveil's instructions," she whispered, throat bared. "She said Alpha Ironmaw agreed that she's also the lady of the den. You're the first Luna, and she's the second..."
She was still talking when I snatched my keys and drove to the Healing Hall.
By the time I arrived, Corvina had already delivered.
The scent hit me before I reached the room. Scorched iron and dry cedar bark, Theron's scent, threaded so tightly with that cloying honeysuckle-and-vanilla sweetness that they'd become almost indistinguishable. My stomach turned. My wolf pressed against the inside of my chest, not growling, not whimpering. Just pressing. Like she was trying to brace me for what came next.
The room was packed. Nearly all of Theron's inner circle had crowded inside, laughing and talking over each other like it was a celebration. Their combined scents filled the corridor, warm and boisterous, the smell of pack wolves at ease. As if this were a bonding ceremony. As if this were something to honor.
"Theron, does your mate even know Corvina's had the pup?"