The drums of the coronation had barely faded when the first scream tore through the night.
Willow stood at the center of the great hall, the silver crown still cool against her brow, Dorian's hand warm in hers.
For one breath she thought the sound was part of the celebration, some overexcited pup somewhere in the crowd, then the doors at the far end burst inward, and a guard staggered through with an arrow buried in his shoulder.
"Bloodmoon!" He choked out. "They're inside the walls! They're everywhere!"
The hall erupted. Dorian's grip on her hand tightened until it hurt.
"Get her out," He said to the warriors nearest them, his voice already dropping into the low growl of the Alpha. "Get my Luna and my son somewhere safe now!"
"Dorian, no!" Willow grabbed his arm. "I'm not leaving you."
"You have to," He turned to her, and for half a second the fear underneath his fury showed through. "I can't fight if I'm worried about you. Please, Willow. For once, just go."
