Night settled deep over the palace.

Ivy stood alone in her father’s old room.

The space had not changed much. The large bed. The dark walls. The old desk near the window. The scent was still there, faint but familiar. Alpha Damon’s scent. Her mother’s scent too, softer, calmer. It wrapped around her like something steady.

She did not sit.

She did not lie down.

She stood in the center of the room, hands hanging by her sides, eyes moving slowly from one corner to another. Every wall held ...