Six months in the Shadowfall Keep had completely redefined what it meant to hold power.
Where I once spent my mornings timidly navigating the quiet halls of the Bloodmoon estate, avoiding Damon’s icy glares and bitter dismissals, I now sat at the grand mahogany council table of the High Envoy suite. Surrounding me were high-ranking ambassadors, trade delegates, and regional pack emissaries seeking my seal on cross-border treaties.
Nora sat quietly at a small side desk near the window, happily coloring a large map of the Neutral Territories with her set of fine pastel pencils. Her laugh was a constant, joyous melody that echoed through the room. She was thriving, growing taller, and her wolf magic was beginning to spark gently in her fingertips—a sign of a healthy, radiant young lycan who
