Natalie~
I sat rigid on the throne beside Zane, fingers digging into the carved armrests like they were the only thing keeping me from launching across the hall and tearing Darius apart. My heart pounded against my ribs with ruthless persistence, each beat hammering home that this wasn't some fever dream—I was here, and this was happening. The crown on my head felt less like gold and more like iron, heavy with expectation, power, and the kind of responsibility that could either forge me into steel or crush me to dust.
The grand hall of the Lycan palace stretched around us, vast and intimidating. Towering stone walls seemed to echo with centuries of howls and oaths, their cold surfaces softened only by ancient tapestries—faded scenes of battles, victories, and the legends of our kind. Torches burned in tall sconces, their flames dancing on every face present.
