#Chapter 156: Glass House Gala

Amelia The gala shimmered beneath a lattice of crystal and steel, the glass-paneled ceiling arching high above like a fragile cage. Light refracted from the chandeliers into sharp white streaks, and every polished surface reflected back a distorted version of us: diplomats, elites, wolves pretending to be at peace. I could see my own reflection in the curved side of a champagne flute, eyes a little too wide, lips a little too red. Richard said I looked radiant. I felt like a live wire wrapped in silk. The building was too exposed, all glass and spectacle. It was the first event we’d hosted since the tower discovery, and the invitation list had been a deliberate provocation. Peace envoys from neutral packs, rogue affiliates, even one of the Hollow’s suspected proxy territories. If a bomb went off tonight, the entire balance of power would go with it. Richard stayed close to me but not too close. We weren’t touching. We hadn’t since the lounge two nights ago when I’d cried into h