The moment Selene took Kael's hand, the throne room answered.
Silver light erupted across the marble floor in violent waves, every hidden covenant line blazing bright enough to drown the chamber in pale moonfire. The imperial throne trembled atop the dais while the staircase beneath it widened fully at last, ancient stone grinding against ancient stone with a sound deep enough to shake the palace foundations.
Every wolf in the room froze.
Not from fear.
Instinct.
The pressure rolling upward from beneath the throne was no longer subtle. It flooded through the chamber like a living pulse, old enough to bypass thought entirely and strike directly at bloodline memory.
Several imperial guards dropped to one knee again.
One of the southern wolves looked physically ill.
Fenrir swore quietly beneath his breath while gripping his blade tighter.
And Selene --
Selene felt the throne memory surge violently through her chest.
Not fragmented this time.
Hungry.
