SERA

The ceremony was at midnight.

Not in the great hall this time. The battle had left it in disarray, candles toppled, chairs overturned, the careful arrangements destroyed by the alarm and the scramble to defend the border. Instead, the pack gathered outside. The full moon sat high and fat and silver above the tree line, casting enough light to turn the compound grounds into a stage.

Three hundred wolves formed a circle. Every rank, every role, every wolf who called Ashford territory home. ...