Her gaze swept across the room, lingering on Amira just long enough for her smile to falter before she turned his attention elsewhere.
The woman was calm, tall, and beautiful. Chubby round face, that made her look innocent, but her eyes were hard and she was mostly silent.
I wonder who she was.
Brielle cleared her throat and stood. “As you all know, today’s meeting is about the upcoming Harvest Summit.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Of course.
The Harvest Summit was one of the many noble gatherings that occurred every year, where the strongest women of the werewolf hierarchy came together to discuss alliances, trade agreements, and pack politics.
But in reality?
It was a battlefield.
A social war zone where women like Brielle and Amira thrived–where whispers, fake smiles, and carefully planned insults were sharper than any blade. They would discuss, gossip and try to ruin your reputation. I know this because Amira always came home and talked about it back then.
And I always listened. I always wanted to go to one, but now I don’t feel like that anymore.
Cecelia muttered under her breath, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
I bit back a smirk.
Brielle continued, lifting her chin as if she were the Queen of the damned realm.
The summit will take place at Ravenhall, as per tradition.” She shot a pointed look in my direction. “And as our new Luna, Lady Liana will be attending and would be our host. Number one planner.”
A hush settled over the room.
I didn’t miss the way Amira tensed.
She hadn’t expected that.
She had thought I was temporary. A passing amusement for Alaric.
But this?
Being able to get acknowledgement from the women who should have been flaunting over her, didn’t sit well with her.
I met her gaze and smiled.
Amira’s nails dug into her palm, she gave me a tight smile.
Brielle continued, her voice smooth. “There are a few concerns we must address before the summit. Primarily, the matter of territory trade and female pack rankings.”
One of the older noblewomen, Lady Camilla, a sharp–eyed woman with graying hair spoke up. “There is concern about the lower- ranked packs, particularly how they are treated within the capital’s jurisdiction.”
A murmur spread through the table.
Cecelia leaned closer to me, muttering, “Translation–how much power should the omegas have?”
I stiffened
It was always about power. As an omega myself, I need to take note of this and inform Alaric.
Brielle gave a practiced sigh. “It is important to maintain hierarchy within our lands. But some feel that the lesser–ranked wolves—” she glanced at me, “-should have more say in political matters. What do you think, Luna?”
She said it so sweetly, but I knew what she meant. It wasn’t a discussion. It was a trap. If I agreed, I would be seen as challenging tradition. If I disagreed, I would be a hypocrite, I took a slow sip of my tea, meeting her gaze evenly.
“Well, I said lightly. “That depends”
Brielle arched her brow. “On?”
1 placed my cup down. “On whether we’re talking about justice or just the preservation of power.”
A ripple of shock passed through the room.
I didn’t look at Amira, but I felt her watching me,
Brielle’s smile tightened. “A Luna must always be careful with her words.”
I returned the smile, “And so must a Lady”
Lady Camilla coughed to hide her laughter, Cecelia looked like she wanted to hug me.
Lady
Brielle, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to fling her tea at my face,
Before she could retaliate, Lady Camilla cleared her throat, “Regardless, the Harvest Summit will bring representatives from all lands, including the Northlands and the River Packs. Their leaders will expect negotiations on trade, territory, and new alliance terms.”
My stomach twisted.
The Northlands. That meant the Rebel King’s people. The same Rebel King who had been stirring unrest. Who had been waiting for any excuse to wage war. And now we were about to sit in a room pretending peace was possible.
Brielle continued, “It is also expected that the Luna will host one of the summit’s key events, a night of diplomacy for the wives and daughters of the ruling packs.”
1 froze,
Cecelia muttered a curse. A night of diplomacy, We haven’t talked about this. I have never hosted anything.
I don’t even know how to do that. If I messed up it would be bad because this was a chance for these women to gauge me. To decide whether I was worthy of my title–or if they could tear me down.
My throat went dry,
1 had spent my entire life being mocked by noblewomen.
Now I was supposed to host them?
I kept a neutral face, “I am hosting the summit. I am also hosting diplomacy?”
Brielle smirked, “Can you not handle it?”
“She will handle it. She is capable. New but she can.”
I turned to Cecelia, my eyes widened. But she didn’t look at me,
The room stilled.
She hadn’t asked if I was ready. She had declared it. Like there was no doubt.
Like the trusted me.
Something tightened in my chest.
I exhaled dowly and turned back to the table.
Then I suppose I said smoothly, “we dudd begin planning”
Amira’s eyes burned into me. She was pissed.
Amira was waiting for me to fail.
But she would be waiting a long time.
Brielle’s lips pursed, but she didn’t argue.
“Very well,” she said, smoothing out her skirts. “The night of diplomacy will take place on the second evening of the Summit. Lady Liana will be responsible for organizing the event, arranging the seating, and ensuring all noblewomen are properly accommodated.”
I gave a sweet smile. “How thoughtful of you to delegate such important duties to me.”
Brielle didn’t smile back.
Cecelia coughed to hide her amusement.
“Sounds like fun.”
I shot her a glare.
Fun?
This was a trap, and everyone at this table knew it.
The night of diplomacy wasn’t just a social gathering. It was a calculated battlefield, where every interaction, every word spoken, could shift alliances or create enemies.
Brielle was testing me.
She wanted to see if I could be picked apart.
If I would crack under the pressure.
I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
I sat up straighter. “Since I’m the host, I’ll need to know who will be attending.”
Brielle flicked her gaze to a servant standing at the side of the room. The young girl hurried forward, placing a rolled parchment in front of me.
“The guest list,” Brielle said. “You’ll find most of the noble houses included, as well as a special addition.”
I unrolled the parchment, scanning the names.
Then-
My breath hitched.
At the bottom, written in neat, deliberate script-
Lady Amira Waters.
My fingers tightened around the parchment.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze to Brielle.
She smiled.
Innocent.
Fake.
“I took the liberty of inviting your sister,” she said sweetly. “I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity for the two of you to
reconnect”
Lying
She wanted Amira there for one reason—to make my life hell.
I folded the parchment carefully. “How kind of you.”
Amira let out a soft laugh. “I do love a good celebration.”
I didn’t look at her.
Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I could keep my expression neutral.
I turned back to Brielle. “Will the Northland nobles be attending my event as well?”
She nodded. “Of course. They’ll be observing how we run our courts. A chance for them to see how our Luna rules.”
I understood then.
This wasn’t about society games anymore.
This was about power.
If I failed to control the event–if I allowed myself to be undermined–it wouldn’t just be my reputation at risk.
It would be Alaric’s..
And that?
That was something I couldn’t allow.
I lifted my chin. “Then I’ll make sure they’re entertained.”
Brielle’s smil
e tightened.
Amira watched me carefully, her eyes filled with calculations.
I could almost hear her thoughts.
What are you planning, sister?
I smiled at her, slow and deliberate.
You’ll find out soon enough.
