The entire pack gathered in the courtyard before sunrise. Cold morning air pressed down on them, thick with dread and exhaustion. Every warrior stood armed. Every elder watched in silence.

Lydia was dragged forward in chains.

Her hair was tangled, her clothes torn, her eyes wild. She looked less like the polished Luna-wannabe she had always pretended to be, and more like a cornered animal.

Alfred faced her, shoulders squared, expression carved from stone. Bella stood at his side, ...