ROVAN’S POV
The grand marble corridor leading to the Lycan Court stretched ahead. Guards stood sentinel on either side, unmoving, unblinking, cloaked in the silver-and-obsidian colors of House Thorne. The palace of Ebonhold was a monolith carved into a mountain’s heart, regal and ancient. Everything about it screamed power. Legacy. Judgment.
My wolf paced nervously behind my ribs like a caged animal.
“Relax,” Elene said, smiling without warmth. “You look like you’re about to be executed.”
I glanced at her. She was radiant in crimson silk and a polished gold chestpiece that hugged her torso like a battle declaration. Her blonde hair was coiled high, wrapped in jeweled pins from the Redfang treasury. She had definitely dressed to impress.
“I’m not the one under inspection,” I muttered.
She laughed softly. “No, you’re the one offering tribute.”
A guard pounded the butt of his spear against the floor, then pushed the doors open with a groaning thunder that swept through the halls like prophecy.
We stepped into a hall built to humble gods.
Vaulted ceilings stretched into shadows above. An aisle of blood-red carpet unfurled ahead of us, flanked by nobles and alphas from nearly every major pack. They lined the chamber in tight, silent rows, eyes glittering with interest and judgment.
At the far end of the room sat the throne. Carved of dark stone, crowned with wolf fangs, and draped in shadow.
King Maelric Thorne, cold and regal, sat upon it like it was part of him.
He was watching us without a smile, he didn’t even blink or nod and it increased my nervousness.
“Elene of House Redfang,” I said clearly, voice steady, “comes with me as mate and alliance. I, Rovan Dareth of Blackmaw, present her for recognition under the Lycan Crown.”
Elene dropped into a graceful kneel beside me, chin high, hands perfectly posed.
I knelt too. My joints ached from more than the marble.
Still, no response.
The silence stretched.
Seconds. Maybe longer. It felt like being buried alive.
Elene’s fingers twitched on her lap. “Why is he staring like that?” she whispered.
My wolf answered before I could: Because something’s coming. Something’s wrong.
Suddenly, the chamber doors exploded open behind us.
Gasps tore through the crowd like a ripple of lightning. Firm and unhurried footsteps echoed.
I turned, heartbeat slamming in my ears, when I saw her.
Sylra.
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