Since the day Logan brought the dress, Freya’s thoughts had been restless. Every time she walked past the spot where it hung — perfectly draped on the carved oak stand — her chest tightened. It was more than fabric; it was a question she couldn’t answer. Why had Logan given it to her? Why now?

The memory of Avy’s words clung to her like a second skin: “Alpha Logan said you should wear it on the night of the full moon and meet him in the council hall.”

Three days. Three days of ...