The carriage wheels rattled over cobblestones as they climbed the steep road to Eldralith's highest hill. Torches lit the streets, banners unfurled in the night breeze, and music carried faintly from the palace gates above.
Inside the carriage, the three travelers sat in quiet anticipation.
Shannon wore his black formal coat trimmed with silver thread, the Dravenmoor crest glinting at his collar. His broad shoulders filled the space, and even seated, his presence was commanding.
The firelight from the lanterns caught the lines of his face—strong jaw, sharp nose, frost-blue eyes that missed nothing. He looked every bit the Alpha—commanding as always, but now polished with an elegance that drew eyes even before he entered the room.
