Chapter 168

• Kiara
• The courtroom of Silvermoon Pack was a fantastic catheter of all deceits—high vaulted ceilings were lost in the shadows, moonlight came through narrow arched windows, and brushed silver lances across a polished marble floor. The tapestries were designed to hang on the walls—sharp snarling wolves—woven in threads of crimson and gold.
• The last secret-filled air was heavy with the scents of wax-dripping candelabras and the faint musky tang of Lycan tension.