Arya stood at the sink, a damp cloth in her hand, staring at the half-scrubbed pot that had held venison stew a few hours ago. The water was cold, making her knuckles almost gone white. She squeezed the cloth until water dripped between her fingers.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, the same thought kept pulling over and over again.
Vael's Engagement.
The announcement had spread through Nightwalker like wildfire through drought grass. She had heard it first from one of her assistants who had stopped what he was doing to talk about it with his colleagues.
"Finally, Alpha Vael has picked someone to be his Luna. An omega." His grin widened, and his tone was careless.
By noon, she had heard it six more times. From her father. From the customers at the restaurant. At the fashion house, where the seamstress was openly gossiping with her assistants during a dress-fitting session.
