Asher
The storm outside the palace hadn’t stopped for days. Rain lashed against the tall windows, each gust of wind rattling the panes as though the world itself was impatient for change.
I stood at the head of the long oak table, watching the council gather one by one. The elders, the pack Alphas, the bureaucrats who’d once trembled at my brother’s shadow.
Tonight, they trembled at mine.
“Lord Regent,” Jackson greeted carefully, the title still tasting foreign and on his tongue. “You called this assembly without notice.”
“I called it because notice is a luxury,” I replied smoothly, gesturing for him to sit. “Our King has been absent for years, and not this most recent ghost hunt, but he has let his duties go since the death of his first mate and Queen.”
A low murmur rippled through
