The Great Hall smelled of blood and roasted meat. This wasn't a "breakfast"—it was a display of dominance. Servers moved like shadows, laying out platters of seared venison, thick slabs of boar, and silver bowls overflowing with dark, heavy fruits. Caleb sat at the head of the long stone table, draped in furs, looking every bit the Alpha he was born to be.
Elara sat to his right. She didn't touch the meat. The sight of the red juices pooling on the silver tray made her stomach turn, especially when she remembered the crimson silk from the night before.
Around them, the high-ranking members of the family pack ate with a feral intensity. They didn't use forks. They ripped into the feast with their hands, their eyes occasionally glowing as they whispered about borders and bloodlines.
"You are barely eating, my Luna," Caleb said. He didn't look at her. He was busy carving a piece of heart with a bone-handled knife. His movements were precise, dangerous.
"I am not hungry for a hunt today," Elara replied, her voice cutting through the low growls of the table. "I am still thinking about that messenger from the Crescent Moon. Did she leave with a full belly, or did she leave... satisfied?"
The table went silent. A few of the older wolves paused, their ears twitching.
Caleb finally turned his head. His eyes were cold, like a winter sky. He dropped the knife, the metal clanging against the stone. "The business of the pack is not for the breakfast table, Elara. You know this."
"Is she business, Caleb?" Elara leaned in, her voice a dangerous whisper. "Because she looked like a pleasure. I saw her scent on your skin. It was stronger than the scent of the pack. It was... personal."
Caleb's jaw tightened. He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed a heavy goblet of wine and drained it in one go. He slammed the silver cup down, the sound echoing like a war drum.
"The Crescent Moon clan provides us with more than just silk," he said, his voice dropping into that Alpha register that made the floor vibrate. "They provide us with alliances. With strength. Things you wouldn't understand because you are too busy counting threads in the hallway."
"I understand more than you think," Elara said, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was pushing him, poking the beast in front of his own people. "I understand that a leader who hides a woman in his study is a leader who is afraid of his own shadow."
A low snarl ripped from Caleb's throat. He stood up, his massive frame casting a shadow over her that felt like a cage. The rest of the family immediately looked down, sensing the shift in the air.
"We are done here," he hissed, grabbing her arm. His grip wasn't a caress anymore. It was a shackle. "We will finish this in the solar. Away from ears that shouldn't be hearing your delusions."