The silk felt like water against Selene's skin.
She twirled again, watching the midnight blue fabric flare around her ankles. Her mother had commissioned the gown specially for tonight. For the Moonlight Feast.
"Catch me if you can!" Isolde's giggle echoed through the great hall.
Selene spun to see her little sister darting between the servants preparing the long tables. Isolde's own dress was pale yellow, like sunshine. She looked like a flower come to life.
"You'll wrinkle your gown before the guests arrive," Selene called, but she was already chasing after her.
Their game wove between maids carrying platters of bread and fruit. Past footmen polishing silver until it gleamed. The entire manor buzzed with activity.
Selene caught Isolde near the hearth, both of them breathless and laughing.
"Girls." Their mother's voice carried across the hall. Gentle but firm.
Lady Elara Eltharion stood near the main doors. Even in a simple day dress, she looked regal. Her dark hair was already pinned up, ready for the feast. She smiled at her daughters.
"Come here, both of you."
Selene took Isolde's hand and they walked over together. Her mother knelt to their level.
"Tonight is important," Lady Elara said. "Neighboring packs are coming to celebrate kinship under the full moon. You'll meet other noble children. Some may become allies. Friends."
"Or mates," Isolde whispered, then covered her mouth with both hands.
Selene felt her cheeks heat. "I'm only ten!"
"And already thinking about such things." Their mother laughed softly. "There's time for that later. For now, I need you both to remember your manners. Greet guests politely. Don't speak unless spoken to during the formal toasts."
"Yes, Mama," they chorused.
Lady Elara stood, smoothing Selene's hair. "You look beautiful, darling. Both of you do. Your father will be so proud."
As if summoned by the mention, Lord Matthias's voice boomed from the corridor. "Where are my girls?"
He strode into the hall in full formal attire. Black coat embroidered with silver thread. The Eltharion crest over his heart. A powerful Beta wolf, he commanded respect from every pack in the southern territories.
"Papa!" Isolde launched herself at him.
He caught her easily, spinning her once. "My little flower. Look at you. When did you grow so much?"
"I'm seven now. Practically grown."
"Practically," he agreed, setting her down. His eyes found Selene next. "And you. Come here."
Selene walked to him, suddenly shy. Her father had been distant lately. Always in meetings with other pack leaders. Always worried about something.
He cupped her face with both hands. "You look so much like your mother. Beautiful and strong. The Eltharion blood runs true in you."
Something in his tone made Selene's wolf stir. She couldn't shift yet. Wouldn't be able to until her first moon, maybe a year away. But she could feel her wolf inside. A presence. A second heartbeat.
Right now, that presence felt uneasy.
"Papa? Is everything alright?"
Lord Matthias's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Tonight we celebrate. Let politics wait until tomorrow."
But Selene had heard the whispers. Servants talked when they thought children weren't listening. Words like "rebellion" and "southern packs uniting" and "the Alpha King's concern."
Her father released her and turned to survey the hall. "Excellent work. The manor looks perfect."
A servant approached, bowing. "My lord, the first guests are arriving."
"Already?" Lady Elara touched her hair. "I need to finish preparing."
"Go. I'll greet them." Lord Matthias kissed his wife's cheek. Then he looked at his daughters. "You two, upstairs. Get your hair properly done. I want you looking like the noble ladies you are."
They curtsied in unison and hurried toward the stairs.
As they climbed, Selene glanced back. Her father stood alone in the great hall, staring at nothing. His shoulders were tight. His jaw clenched.
Something was wrong.
But Isolde tugged her hand. "Come on! I want the maid to braid flowers into my hair!"
Selene let herself be pulled along. Whatever worried their father, it was adult business. Tonight was for celebration.
At least, that's what she told herself.
Two hours later, the great hall had transformed.
Candles blazed in every sconce. The long tables groaned under platters of roasted venison, honeyed bread, glazed vegetables. Wine flowed freely. Musicians played in the corner, filling the air with drums and flutes.
And wolves. Everywhere, wolves.
Not in beast form, of course. That would be uncivilized at a formal gathering. But Selene could smell them. Could sense the power radiating from each guest. Alphas, Betas, a few rare Omegas treated like precious treasures.
She sat at the children's table with Isolde and a handful of other noble children. They picked at their food and whispered.
"That's Lord Varion," a boy across from Selene muttered. "He controls three territories to the east."
"My father says he's greedy," a girl added.
"Everyone's greedy," another boy said. "That's how you get power."
Selene stayed quiet. She watched the adult tables instead.
Her father sat near the head, beside the regional Alpha. Lord Matthias was charming tonight, laughing at jokes, raising his wine glass in toasts. But Selene could see the tension in his shoulders.
Her mother played the perfect hostess, moving between tables, ensuring everyone had full cups and plates.
And in the shadows near the servants' entrance, Alaric watched.
Selene's adopted brother rarely attended these gatherings. He'd been part of their family for six years, taken in after his own pack was destroyed in a territorial dispute. But he always seemed separate. Apart.
Tonight he wore formal clothes like the other young men. His dark hair was neatly combed. He could have joined the festivities.
Instead, he stood alone, his expression unreadable.
Selene caught his eye across the hall. He didn't smile. Didn't wave. Just watched her with those intense dark eyes.
A chill ran down her spine.
"Selene?" Isolde tugged her sleeve. "You're not eating."
"I'm not hungry."
"But it's the Moonlight Feast! We're supposed to celebrate!"
Selene forced a smile and took a bite of bread. It tasted like ash in her mouth.
Around them, the adults grew louder as wine loosened tongues. The music swelled. Laughter echoed off the stone walls.
A visiting wolf stood, raising his glass. "To Lord Matthias Eltharion! A true Beta, loyal to his pack and his king!"
"To Lord Matthias!" the hall chorused.
Her father stood, bowing slightly. "You honor me. But tonight, we honor something greater. We honor the bonds between packs. The kinship that makes us strong."
He raised his own glass higher. "To Alpha King Damian! May his reign be long and just!"
"To the Alpha King!"
Glasses clinked. Wine flowed. The feast continued.
But Selene noticed the glances. The way some wolves didn't quite meet her father's eyes when they drank to the king's health. The way conversations died when certain people approached.
Tension crawled through the room like smoke.
"Papa looks worried," Isolde whispered.
"He's fine."
"No, he's not. I can feel it. My wolf can feel it."
Selene looked at her little sister in surprise. "You can feel your wolf already?"
"A little. Can't you?"
"Yes. And she's scared."
Isolde's hand found hers under the table. They held on tight.
The musicians shifted to a faster tempo. Some of the younger wolves began to dance. The children's table was forgotten as the adults fell into revelry.
Selene relaxed slightly. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe the tension was just normal politics. Adult stuff she didn't understand yet.
She took another bite of venison.
"I need to use the privy," Isolde announced.
"I'll take you."
"I'm not a baby. I can go by myself."
"Mama said to stay together."
Isolde rolled her eyes but didn't argue. They slipped away from the table, heading toward the corridor that led to the privies.
The noise of the feast faded as they walked deeper into the manor. Torches lit the hallway, but shadows pooled in the corners.
Selene's wolf whimpered.
She stopped walking.
"What's wrong?" Isolde asked.
"I don't know. Something feels..."
Wrong. Everything felt wrong.
The forest outside had gone silent. No night birds singing. No crickets chirping. Even the wind had died.
Selene turned toward the nearest window. Pressed her face to the glass.
Outside, beyond the torchlight that illuminated the manor grounds, darkness gathered. Thick and absolute.
And in that darkness, shapes moved.
Her wolf howled inside her chest. A warning. A scream without sound.
"Selene?" Isolde's voice was small now. Frightened. "What do you see?"
Before Selene could answer, a sound split the night.
A howl.
Not the friendly howls of greeting between packs. Not the ceremonial howls that accompanied toasts.
This was a war cry.
Raw. Savage. Promising blood.
Glass shattered in the great hall. Screaming started.
Isolde grabbed Selene's hand, her eyes wide with terror.
And from outside, from the darkness, from the forest that had gone so terrifyingly silent, came the sound of running feet.
Hundreds of them.
All heading straight for their home.