Vivienne arrived at the council hall late, as she always did. Tardiness, for her, was an art form. She believed meetings tasted better once everyone else had already swallowed their importance and settled into their seats. Then she would arrive, perfume first, heels second, presence last, and the room would rearrange itself around her whether it wanted to or not.
Today was no different.
The Council Hall of Crestwood was already full. The elders sat in their rows, their wives beside them. The Crestwood women shakers filled one side of the hall. Beta Cyril stood near the exit. Charles sat at the back. John, the alpha's advisor, wore the expression of a man who already knew he wasn't going to like this.
And Claudia.
She stood on the podium, elegant and immovable, hands folded calmly. Everything about her radiated control. A woman who had survived politics, a blood thirsty alpha rule, and motherhood without losing her spine.
Vivienne swept in just as Claudia drew breath to begin.
