Dawn came without mercy.
The moon had barely faded when the compound began to stir, warriors moving through corridors with purpose sharp enough to cut. Drums sounded low and slow, reverberating through stone and bone alike, announcing what every wolf already knew.
The Trial of the Moon had begun.
Selene stood alone in the antechamber, dressed not in silk or finery but in simple gray cloth. No jewelry. No symbols. No protection.
An Omega before the pack.
She rolled her shoulders back, ignoring the chill that crept along her spine. The air felt heavier here, saturated with expectation and hunger. Wolves fed on moments like this—on weakness exposed under ritual and law.
Her wolf paced restlessly beneath her skin.
Not afraid.
Angry.
The door opened.
Two guards entered, faces impassive. "It's time."
Selene nodded once and followed them out.
The courtyard was already full.
