Zoe POV

The woman on the other side of the door is not someone I've seen before. She's broad-shouldered, standing with the particular stillness of someone who has been placed rather than stationed, and she delivers her message with the flat efficiency of a person who expects it to be received without argument.

"The Luna would like to see you."

I look at her. The corridor behind her is lit and empty. The hour is late enough that the rest of the pack has long since settled, ...