Isla's POV
The grand hall of Silvercrest was suffocating.
Hundreds of wolves filled the space, all watching her. Some with respect. Some with envy that looked like poison. Most with fear so thick she could taste it.
Isla stood between Cassian and her father, acutely aware that she was the only thing keeping them from tearing the room apart.
An Alpha from the Northern Territory approached with a forced smile. His eyes kept flickering to her belly, like he couldn't believe she was really pregnant. Like some part of him thought this was a trick.
"Your Majesty," he said, attempting a bow. It was awkward. He clearly had no idea how to address a Luna Queen.
"Just Isla is fine," she said smoothly. But she held his gaze a beat too long, letting him feel the weight of her power. Cassian had taught her this. The pause. The silence. The way to make someone understand you were done being nice.
The Alpha retreated, uncertain and unsettled.
