In the first light of the northern clearing, Phoebe's hand stays against Rosamund's during the map handoff, the contact sparking a heat that defies their ranks. The Wolf Queen, with her silver-streaked gaze and hidden scars, holds the border leader in place with nothing but the weight of her command.
The ritual demands Phoebe's full surrender to Rosamund's dominance, their bodies drawn into the rockfall den where breathing turns shallow and every defense crumbles under the queen's steady command. Succession and pack loyalty stand between them and the belonging both crave yet fear.
As the eclipse nears, the choice to cross that final line threatens to destroy the self-respect each has fought to maintain.
