Silas.
Morning slips into my chamber without ceremony.
For a few long moments, I lie still, staring at the canopy above my bed, watching pale light creep across carved wood and heavy drapery.
The palace is quieter at dawn. The corridors have not yet filled with advisers and petitioners and the endless echo of duty. It feels almost peaceful.
Tomorrow I will be crowned Alpha.
The thought should thrill me. I have waited for this since I was old enough to understand what inheritance meant. Since I was old enough to realize that power is not something that is given. It is claimed. Held. Defended.
Yet as I stare at the ceiling, my chest feels tight rather than triumphant.
Beside me, Loretta shifts beneath the furs. I feel the warmth of her body against my side, steady and certain. She had come to me late last night, radiant with anticipation, already speaking as though the ceremony had happened.
