Third Person's POV Luna Evelyn's rebuke lodged in her throat before she could release it. Aysel's eyes were too calm, too cold-no trace of the former longing, no flicker of the daughter who once sought even scraps of affection from the Moonvale Pack. Confronted with that frost, Evelyn froze, momentarily stunned. Magnus lifted his lashes, one hand sliding onto Aysel's shoulder with effortless dominance. His gaze, edged with the quiet lethality of the continent's strongest Alpha, settled on Alpha Remus. "Alpha Remus," he said mildly, "make way." Even spoken lightly, his voice carried the steel of a Rafe. Alpha Remus's lips tightened. Humiliation deepened the lines on his face as he tugged his mate and sons aside. Julia stepped forward immediately, eager to place herself at Aysel's flank. Her fox-like smile gleamed with mischief and bright satisfaction. "Please, this way," she purred, "I'll take you inside." And so the three of them-Aysel, Magnus, and Julia-entered the Moonspire Theater openly, under the gaze of dozens of guests who had come early for the performance. The show had not yet begun, but the night was already full of spectacle. Eyes flashed. Ears twitched. More than one wolf thumbed furiously over their screen, sending rapid messages into private gossip dens, eager to share every scrap of Moonvale Pack embarrassment before the curtain even rose. The Moonvale wolves kept smiling, but the pride they'd worn earlier had drained from their faces like blood from a new kill. Aysel, her back to them, let her lips curl slightly. A performance like this had to be witnessed fresh; but giving Celestine the honor of "support" from her? That was a face she refused to bestow. If rumors later twisted this into reconciliation between her and Celestine, she would never hear the end of it. Inside, the Moonvale Pack writhed under the weight of glances and whispers. Julia's loud, sweet flattery toward Aysel and Magnus-both of whom had just publicly backed her-only made the discomfort sharper, like claws raking across thin skin.Fenrir patted Luna Evelyn's trembling hand. "It's fine. Once Celestine finishes performing, their mouths will shut." Lykos nodded. "Sister's new choreography is brilliant. Even the master she invited as stage consultant said it was exceptional. Let her strength slap their faces. That Julia... she's Celestine's defeated opponent. Everyone will laugh at Aysel for choosing the wrong side." Their words eased Alpha Remus and Luna Evelyn visibly. Yes. Once Celestine shone on stage, all doubt would dissolve into praise. Dance was judged by the eyes. Rumors held little power against true brilliance. And if Celestine managed to win recognition tonight, especially from those legendary figures in the audience, then the title of "dancing prodigy" would rise with her, higher than ever before. Backstage, minutes later Celestine was changing into her opening costume when the news reached her. "Aysel and Magnus are here?" Her hands stilled. And then- "They came to visit Julia? And brought flowers?" Celestine's expression darkened. No wonder Julia had escaped every crisis these past weeks. No wonder she'd suddenly grown fearless. She had obtained a powerful backer-the strongest Alpha himself, and through him, Aysel. Celestine stared into the mirror at her own perfectly crafted reflection, her eyes hardening. It didn't matter. After tonight, they would no longer stand on the same tier of competition. Unexpectedly many influential wolves had arrived-beings she had never dreamed would attend her performance. Madame Sophia Holland. Giovanna. Other masters whose approval could shift the entire artistic landscape. Wolves she had once believed unreachable. Yet here they were, seated in the dark sea of the audience.It proved she still commanded attention in the highest circles. The shock settled into exhilaration. She had thought she needed momentum-buzz, campaigns, strategic PR-to reach them. But destiny had delivered them to her feet instead. Celestine allowed herself a confident smile. When the clock struck seven-thirty, the performance began precisely on time. The theater dimmed. One single beam of moonlike light burst across the stage. Celestine stepped into it as thousands of breaths held still. The set, the music, the costumes, the choreography-each element shone with the sharpness of a well-honed fang. Celestine had always valued her craft; beyond the Moonvale Pack, it was the one thing she possessed through her own effort rather than inherited privilege. She had some talent, yes- but she had long discovered that in the heights she sought to climb, talent alone was prey before monsters born with greater gifts. To keep pace with the true prodigies, she had poured more sweat, more blood, more ritual discipline into her training than most wolves could endure. Only that dedication kept her suspended in the rarefied air of the elite. Even when things between her and Aysel had been at their worst, Aysel had never denied Celestine's work ethic. In terms of skill, the she-wolf earned what she fought for.