Gwen sat on a raised dais beside Kaelen, her Moon-Sliver ring catching the light of a thousand candles. She looked out at the fierce, battle-scarred wolves of the North. They didn't look at her with the pity or disdain she had grown used to. They looked at her with awe.
Kaelen leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're thinking about them. The wolves who are currently losing their minds trying to figure out how to reclaim you."
"I'm thinking about the cost," Gwen admitted. "Your pack is taking a huge risk harboring me. The Blackfangs are vengeful."
Kaelen reached under the table, taking her hand. His thumb traced the edge of her ring. "Let them come. I've spent my life preparing for a war. I just never realized I was waiting for a reason to start it." He stood up, raising a silver chalice. The room fell into a deathly silence. "To the New Moon!" Kaelen bellowed. "To the Luna who will lead us into the shadows and bring us out in gold!"
