I stood to the side and watched everything unfold.
It all felt absurd.
Not long ago, the Morrigans and Julian had bared their teeth at me, defending Camilla like she was some sacred Luna chosen by fate. I could still remember the way they cornered me, their words sharp, their eyes full of judgment.
And now?
The Morrigans looked broken.
Julian who once looked at Camilla like she was the only mate worthy of his claim now stared at her as if she were something rotten.
How quickly loyalties shift in a pack.
Malcom had even dyed his hair black for the bonding ceremony. He wore a custom suit, stood tall, tried to look like a proud father offering his daughter to a powerful bloodline.
But the exhaustion in his scent betrayed him.
"Fine," he muttered finally. "Do whatever you want."
It was the voice of a man who had lost control of his territory.
The doctor arranged the procedure quickly. Julian followed them down the hallway, his back straight, steps cold and steady.
