The party in the Great Hall was a deafening roar of pack pride. Tables stretched from one end of the timbered room to the other, packed with wolfies who were eagerly sorting through the official celebration mementos. Every single member of the Moon Shadow pack had a gift bag at their seat, a token to mark the historic naming of their very first Luna. Standing beside Storm Maverick Kinkaid in my emerald-green dress, with little Amara proudly holding her petals earlier and the fur babies acting like royalty, the ceremony itself had been a quick, done deal.
But it wasn’t just Moon Shadow wolves in the room. A few leaders from neighboring packs had traveled to Pinecreek for the presentation, and I could feel their eyes tracking my every move. They were whispering, their brows furrowing as they tried to catch my scent. I smelled almost entirely human to them, and the Moon Goddess very rarely fated a wolfie to a human mate. They were looking at me like I was a riddle they couldn’t solve… until the riddle solved itself in the most explosive way possible.
I was seated at the main table, smiling down at Kyle and Amara, when a shadow fell over me. It wasn’t one of the young, eager omegas who had been helping me in the kitchen. This woman was older, her posture rigid, and there was a sharp, bitter scent rolling off her that my inklings instantly flagged. V didn’t know her history yet—didn’t know she was one of Stormy’s old friends from before I crossed the border—all I saw was the heavy tray loaded with piping-hot platters of gravy and steaming meats coming directly at my face.
It wasn’t an accident. The deliberate, nasty tilt of her wrists gave it away a fraction of a second before the scalding food launched toward me.
Before my brain could even process the threat, the survival instincts I’d spent thirty years honing—and the strange, ancient power that had been waking up inside my blood since I arrived in Minnesota—erupted.
I thrust my hand out, palm flat against the air.
A blinding, electric crackle snapped through the Great Hall. From my perspective, a sudden, heavy purple haze washed over my vision, blurring the edges of the room. But to everyone else, the transformation was terrifyingly beautiful. My eyes flamed a deep, brilliant violet, and a shockwave of solid purple light exploded directly from my palm.
Instantly, the world stopped breathing.
Everything froze. The heavy metal tray hung at an impossible, gravity-defying angle just inches from my nose. The stream of boiling gravy stopped mid-air, suspended like a jagged ribbon of brown glass. The steam itself ceased to rise, locked in place like a photograph.
For one breathless second, the entire Great Hall went dead silent. Everyone caught it. Every Alpha, Beta, and visiting leader watched the impossible suspension of time and physics happening right at the head table. They saw the purple light. They saw the fire in my gaze.
Realizing what I’d done, I quickly pushed back from the table, breaking the mental grip. The moment the connection severed, the purple haze cleared from my eyes, and gravity slammed back into the room. The tray clattered violently to the floor, hot food splashing all over my empty seat and the wooden planks, missing my emerald dress by a mere fraction of an inch.
Stormy didn’t hesitate. Before the first drop of gravy could even settle on the floorboards, his massive arms swept under my knees and back, lifting me completely away from the mess and holding me high against his chest. His ice-blue eyes glared down at the older woman, who was now trembling under the weight of what she’d just provoked. A terrifying, low vibration rumbled in his throat, a sound that made the windowpanes rattle.
“Clean it up,” he growled, the Alpha command snapping the stunned crowd back into motion.
He didn’t wait for an explanation, and he didn’t give the visiting leaders a chance to ask questions about the witchy display they’d just witnessed. Carrying me securely in his arms, Stormy turned on his heel and marched out of the Great Hall.
GG and Knight were right on his heels, their faces masks of fierce protection, while Rhett followed closely behind, already checking his phone to ensure the security feeds in the hallway were clear. We moved quickly through the central corridor, crossing over into the opposite wing of the massive, U-shaped pack house—leaving the whispers, the staring eyes, and the ruined feast behind us in the shadows.