Namara’s POV

The coronation robes were a heavy burden on my shoulders, theembroidered silver threads biting into my skin like chains.

I made myself stand taller, lift my chin, show the pack what they wanted to see: their docile, devoted Luna,remolded in Damien’s image.

The lie tasted like ashes. The second Damien’s fingertips brushed and curled around mine to pull me into the hall, my wolf awoke for the firsttime in years.

Not theweak, flickering presence I had known before, ...