CELESTE
The sword room was colder than I expected.
Mats lined the neat stone floor, and swords of every size and shape hung proudly along the walls. There was no furniture here.
In the center stood a massive sword. Its long, silver blade sunk deep into a stone pedestal. The hilt was shaped like a wolf's head, its jaw open mid-snarl. A glass case surrounded it like a throne.
Before I could take a step toward it, a guard shoved a sword into my hands.
Then he turned and shouted, "Alpha Tristan is here!"
Everyone bowed. I didn't.
My spine straightened instead. My fingers gripped the hilt tighter, and I lifted my chin.
Footsteps echoed. He stepped into the room like he owned the air we breathed.
Strangely, the first thing I noticed was how dangerously beautiful he looked in black.
Sierra growled softly, irritated by the calm confidence radiating from him but also intrigued,
