I stared at the war reports on my desk, but the ink looked like swarming insects, blurring every time a pulse of force from the moon thrummed through my veins.
"Terrible timing," I hissed, digging my nails into the edge of the table. "You've had a thousand years to be this loud, and you choose the week I'm fighting a two-front war."
I shifted in my chair, trying to find a position that didn't make my skin feel two sizes too small.
A heavy knock rattled the oak door.
"Enter," I rasped, straightening my tunic to hide the slight tremor in my hands.
The door swung wide. The Lead Elder stepped in. Behind him was Varro. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his shoulders tight.
"We need to speak, Alpha," the Elder said.
"It's the middle of the night, Elder. Unless the Blue Moon is at the gate, it can wait for the sun to rise."
