Maria.
Three weeks had passed since the night the world almost ended in the courtyard, and on the surface, a fragile, eerie calm had settled over the pack.
I stood by the window of the main sitting room, folding a warm stack of fresh linens. Outside, the morning sun reflected off the melting snow in the courtyard. The bloody execution post was gone, replaced by fresh gravel, but the ghost of that night still hung heavy in the air.
Aidan had returned to Moonfall pack grounds a few days ago to officially meet with the rest of the elders and secure our borders. He hadn't come back empty-handed. Under his strict orders, the elders had executed a brutal ritual, stripping Vincent of his royal lineage and dark magic before pumping his system full of a wolf-suppressing drug. The potion left the once-terrifying prince weak, hollowed out, and barely able to hear his own inner beast.
And then came the wedding.
