Aria's POV.
I stood in my room, my hands trembling as I dressed, pulling on a simple blue dress, its fabric soft against my skin, my silver hair tied back, my heart racing with worry.
The Shadow Claw packhouse was quiet, the morning light dim through the window, the air cool, the stone walls heavy around me. My wolf, Kyra, whined, her unease sharp, sensing my fear, my anger, my dread.
Yesterday, Brian had come to me, his brown eyes serious, his voice low, explaining the Lunar Festival, the pack's sacred celebration of the moon, where I, as Luna Celeste, had to lead the preparations.
The elders' demand, Kael's reluctant nod, weighed on me, my chest tight, my mind spinning with the task's enormity, banners, feasts, rituals, every detail judged by the pack.
Beta Brian had promised a maid to help, the best one, he said, but he hadn't told me who, and the unknown gnawed at me, my patience thin, my worry loud.
