The gala had been designed to impress.

Crystal chandeliers glowed like inverted constellations, scattering fractured light over masks gilded with gold and feathers. Champagne glasses chimed as laughter rippled through the cavernous ballroom, but beneath the velvet and silk, secrets slithered like snakes.

Raven adjusted her mask, a delicate thing of black lace that fanned across her temples. It hid almost nothing, but the illusion was power anonymity among wolves. The dress clung to her body ...