Yvonne balanced on the beam, each slow step carrying her closer to her destination. Just twenty more, and then she could finally rub it in her brother's face, walking a beam was child's play. Sweat trickled down her neck, and she muttered a curse under her breath.
The end of the beam was the closest it had been since sunrise, when she had started her practice. Victory was almost hers. She could already taste the satisfaction of proving her brother wrong, sweet and heady, like honey.
"Yvonne!"
The screech shattered her focus. She wobbled, arms flailing as she lost balance. With a desperate twist, her toes hooked around the beam's edge. She dangled for a heartbeat before swinging herself back, hair whipping around her face in a fiery red curtain. Below her, the meadow stretched endlessly, a sea of grass and sunflowers glowing gold under the morning light.
"What do you want?" she shouted, glaring down at Maya, her friend, at least, most of the time.
She kicked up, gathering momentum, and flipped back onto the beam. Her knees bent, arms out, wobbling but upright. With a steadying breath, she faced the figure standing about ten feet below. "You almost made me fall," she growled. "If I had, you'd be dead. D-e-a-d."
Maya smirked, dark ponytail gleaming under the sun, one hand planted arrogantly on her hip. In her crisp white shirt, black trousers, and combat boots, she was every inch the picture of confidence. Or maybe, Yvonne thought sourly, she was just projecting.
"The Luna requested your presence," Maya called up.
Yvonne's stomach sank. She quickened her pace along the beam, desperate to finish. But her foot slipped. The beam trembled violently, the sharp groan of shifting metal ringing in her ears. She froze, gritting her teeth.
"Tell her I'll be right there."
"She said now," Maya barked, cutting her off before she could finish. Of course she knew what Yvonne was going to say, they'd grown up together.
"In the blue room," Maya added, her voice sharp.
Yvonne's heart skipped. If the Luna was waiting there, it was serious. Blue room serious. As in life-or-death… or worse, no-chocolate-spread-in-town serious. She eyed the last few steps, debating.
"Yvonne! Now! It's a clan meeting. We're the only ones not there yet."
"Fine," Yvonne muttered, springing down. She landed neatly in the grass and dusted herself off, scowling at Maya. "You don't have to scream like a banshee. I'm going."
Maya groaned, pressing a hand to her face. "Sorry. It's just…" She lowered her voice, raspy and uneasy. "A messenger came at dusk. Everyone's been on edge since. Something's wrong."
Yvonne frowned. If Maya had noticed the tension, then yes, something was definitely wrong.
Their clan was the smallest of the seven, often mocked as unworthy of the title. They survived on performance and craftsmanship, their fabrics, baskets, and jewelry prized even in distant towns. Yvonne, however, had never been much of a crafter. Her greatest embroidery was a crooked set of initials on a handkerchief. She had other talents, though: dancing with blades, walking ropes, and dazzling crowds until even outsiders called her one of the best.
Still, she wasn't important enough to meet with the Luna often. As a wolf, she was an average beta—not strong enough to guard, but steady enough to defend.
She and Maya reached the Luna's cottage, where Yvonne whispered a quick prayer before pushing open the door.
The room was packed. Her gaze, as always, found her brother first—tall, green-eyed, the mirror of her own face stretched into a broader frame. He arched a brow, silently asking where have you been?
"I almost made it across," she whispered when she reached him. "So easy."
Of course, the entire room heard her. The collective shh! made her grin. She held up her hands in surrender, mimed zipping her lips, and pretended to toss the key to her twin. Yurre ruffled her hair in response. She scowled; he grinned.
Their attention shifted as Luna Diane, golden-haired and regal in her blue linen gown, rose from the high chair at the center of the room. Beside her stood her mate, Ray.
"At dusk, we received an invitation," Diane said, her voice carrying. "From Alpha Lux of the Sky Wolves."
Silence fell. Even the air seemed to still.
The Sky Wolves. Revered, feared, arrogant. If the packs were kingdoms, Alpha Lux would be emperor.
"We are summoned to spend the harvest festival in the City of Wolves," the Luna continued. Yvonne grimaced at the name. The arrogance of it. As if they were the only wolves that mattered.
"Not all of us can go. But I have been ordered: all young wolves must be present."
Growls rippled through the clan.
The Luna's expression tightened. "I have made my selections." She handed a scroll to the clan advisor, who bowed before unrolling it.
Names began to ring out: "Freya Parker. Ray Drui. Silver Drui…"
Yvonne's heart thundered in her chest. She tied her hair back with trembling fingers, glancing at Yurre.
"If you go, I go," she whispered.
His hand tightened over hers. "If you go, I go."
The advisor continued: "Maya Luka. Yvonne Srai. Yurre Srai."
The world seemed to stop. Yvonne's heart stumbled, then lurched back into rhythm. Dread crept over her like ice, though she wasn't entirely surprised.
She was going to the City of Wolves.