She dragged her gaze away from Mr. Hathor. Her temples throbbed, a dull pulse behind her eyes. She reached for the pack link, pushed her thoughts toward Belle, toward her aunt, and met only dead air. The silence slammed back against her like a door shut in her face. No warmth. No reply. Only the echo of her own panic.
The twins stood near the edge of the scaffold. Their shoulders touched. Beta Azriel stood beside them, spine straight, jaw locked tight enough that the muscle jumped. Luna's stomach twisted. Her eyes moved from face to face below, searching for who the knights would drag forward next. Whoever it was, their name would be called, and the crowd would lean in to watch.
