DRAVEN'S POV.
The meeting room was too bright. Or maybe it was just my vision, pulsing at the edges like someone dimmed reality and turned up the volume on everything inside my head.
I sat at the head of the long stone table, council members droning on about alliances, territory lines, Luna candidates, again, and my mother watching me like she was waiting for me to explode.
I wasn't listening. Not anymore. Because something slipped into me, not from me.
A weight, a tremor, a sharp sting in the chest that wasn't mine.
Sadness!
But not the normal kind. This one was… soft. Frantic. Almost trembling, and too human. My wolf's ears pricked up instantly. The curse jolted, twisting, sniffing at the feeling like it recognized the source.
"No," I muttered under my breath.
Every head turned.
My mother arched a brow. "Is something the matter, Draven?"
No.
Yes.
Everything.
I straightened. "Continue."
