The morning of the meeting came with the sky gray and the atmosphere cool, a thin mist curling over the pack grounds. Freya sat by the mirror, her fingers absently tugging at the hem of her gown. Her heart beat in an anxious rhythm, louder than the chirping of the birds outside. Samantha was with her, brushing her hair with gentle strokes, and murmuring words of encouragement.

“You’ll be fine,” Samantha said gently. “It’s just a meeting. Nothing you can’t handle.”

Freya nodded ...