The Council chambers sat three days' ride from Liora's fortress, carved into the side of a mountain that had belonged to no single kingdom since before the first Lycan crown existed. Jasmine had heard of it in whispers her whole life — the Hall of Ash, where the old bloodlines had once settled their wars with words instead of claws, back when such a thing had still seemed possible.

She rode in silence for most of the first day, one hand resting over the swell of her belly, feeling the twins shift and settle with every jolt of the road. Xavier rode close at her side, closer than strict protocol...