The throne room buzzed with tension the following morning.
Thick wooden pillars lined the walls, carved with the marks of past Alphas, their legacies etched into oak and shadow. A fire roared by the side in the hearth, casting flickering light across the long table where the Alpha's cabinet sat.
The mood in the room was grim; tight lips, folded arms, and the heavy silence that came with betrayal.
Alpha Damien sat at the head of the table, his face unreadable, his fingers drumming slowly against the table's edge. Beside him, Luna Lyra sat poised in gold and blue, her hair braided into a regal crown. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her lips curled in something far from sorrow.
Danika's name hung in the air like a stench.
"She should be punished," Lyra said, voice trembling with carefully crafted sadness. Her tone was soft and almost apologetic, yet laced with steel beneath. "As much as it wounds me to say it, she tried to kill an Alpha. My mate! That's treason."
