The Citadel’s grand council chamber had never felt so alive.
Sunlight streamed through the towering windows, turning the black granite walls to polished obsidian flecked with gold. The long obsidian table—once a place for solitary decrees—now bore nine high-backed chairs arranged in a perfect circle around a single central seat: silver-veined moonstone, carved with nine-pointed stars and crescent moons. Emily sat there now, back straight, silver markings glowing softly beneath a fitted black gown that shimmered like liquid moonlight. The nine-pointed pendant rested against her heart, warm and steady.
Around her sat the nine.
Caspian at her right—High Alpha no longer ruling alone, his obsidian gaze soft when it met hers. Leon opposite, golden arrogance tempered into quiet strength. Elias
