The music in the hall swelled, but its rhythm no longer matched the atmosphere of the room.
One by one, the Alphas slipped away. At first, it was hardly noticeable, a single figure excusing himself, another vanishing into the shadows of the doorways. But soon, Selene noticed the pattern. Their chairs grew empty, their wine glasses half-abandoned on silver trays.
Laughter still rang in the air, but it was the laughter of those who held no power. They were either the partners, lesser wolves, or those meant to be dazzled and distracted while true decisions were made behind closed doors.
Selene's brow furrowed, her mind instinctively becoming clear as she realized the seriousness of the situation. She forgot about Aeron, about storm-grey eyes and the mate bond that gnawed at her veins. None of it mattered now. The only thing that mattered was the witches.
