Evening settled over the estate slowly, and the last gold threads of sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the great hall where echoes of past assemblies still seemed to linger in the stone walls, as if the building itself remembered every oath spoken beneath its ancient ceiling.
Elara stood alone in the empty chamber.
The long wooden floor stretched before her.
Torches burned quietly along the walls.
Her boots made a faint sound against the polished stone.
Tap.
Tap.
She stopped at the center of the hall.
For a moment she simply stood there.
Her gaze moved slowly toward the raised platform where the pack had gathered weeks ago.
The memory arrived like a sudden gust of wind tearing open a door that had never truly been closed.
The claim ceremony.
The voices.
The kneeling wolves.
The moment Alessandro had taken her hand before the entire pack.
Elara let out a quiet breath.
"Hmm."
Her fingers brushed the faint scar on her wrist again.
"Ouch."
It did not hurt.
