**POV: Dorian**

The office feels too quiet. The air filtration system hums low and steady. The antique wall clock ticks like a countdown I can no longer ignore. I sit at my mahogany desk. The wood feels cold under my arms. On the wall screen the summit preparations look like a grand show. It is all noise. The real threat is already in motion.

The formal charges Caius Voss filed against me sit on the corner of my desk like a loaded weapon. Abuse of a protected bloodline. Illegal suppression of a White Luna. Collusion. Direct physical harm. The language is precise. The evidence is already moving through the inter-pack...