A full year had passed since the day I walked out of the Bloodmoon Pack Hall with my head held high, leaving the wreckage of my past behind.
In the Shadowfall Domain, seasons shifted with a dramatic, breathtaking beauty. The brutal winter mountain winds had given way to lush green valleys, and the courtyards of the black-stone keep were blooming with silver-thorn roses.
Standing on the high balcony of the Envoy Chamber, I adjusted the silver brooch resting on my lapel. It bore the dual crest of the Neutral Alliance—a symbol of my official authority as High Envoy. Over the past twelve months, my office had successfully negotiated seven major trade agreements, shifting the economic power grid of the northern quadrant away from dominant packs and toward a fair, balanced alliance.
I was no
