Chapter 42
Leo
The howls of protest from the Alpha Council chambers. I stood unmoving at the center of the storm, arms crossed as I faced down four of the most powerful Alphas in the Northern Territories. Aurora Howlthorne sat opposite me, the picture of maternal grief in her carefully selected black mourning dress, her eyes red-rimmed—though I'd bet my territory those tears were manufactured on demand.
"This is unprecedented!" Alpha Donovan slammed his fist on the ancient oak table, causing ripples in everyone's water glasses. At eighty-three, he was the oldest member of the council, a traditionalist to his core. "A Luna cannot simply return from the dead and demand control of a territory!"
Aurora dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. "I never died, Elder. I was taken against my will, held captive for years by enemies of our kind. Would you punish me further for my suffering?"
Her performance was flawless—the trembling hands, the broken voice, the strategic pauses for composure. Had I not

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