He crossed the hall in a flash, his hands already glowing with healing energy. He took Ayla with practiced care, checking her pulse, her breath.
Above us, seated on the dais, was Lady Vivienne, once Alpha Regent, now wrapped in the dignity of age and power. She leaned forward, voice sharp as a fang.
“Who is that woman? Why does her scent stir old blood?”
Damien dropped into a shallow bow. “My Lady, she’s no one. A servant who lost her place long ago.”
But I was already moving.
I stepped into the center of the room, ignoring the dozens of eyes, and dropped to one knee, pulling a folded decree from my sleeve.
“My Lady,” I said clearly, my voice ringing in the silence, “I am not a servant.”
“I am Selene Stormfang. Daughter of Alpha Garrick. Blood of the ancient Northern Clans. First Luna of Clawfang Pack.”
I lifted my chin.
“And I seek your judgment to sever my bond to Alpha Damien of Clawfang—by rite of blood and betrayal.”
