The council chamber was colder than usual, though no winter wind touched its stone walls. Evelyn sat at Damien's right, her hands folded tightly in her lap, hiding the tremor she felt beneath her skin. The trial had ended days ago, but its echoes lingered in every corridor of Ravenclaw manor. Wolves whispered when she passed. Some with respect, others with suspicion. The elders had not spoken to her since, their silence a blade sharper than any words.
Tonight, that silence broke.
Elder Marrow, his long white beard brushing against the table, leaned forward with eyes like dull coals. "You presume too much authority, girl," he said, the word girl cutting like venom. "You forget your place. You are no Alpha. You are the Alpha's bedmate, nothing more."
