Vi’s muscles were taut as they travelled. Non-stop thoughts swirled like ink staining her mind. A wedding. A royal wedding at that. It made her stomach flip on itself. That was almost her. It was once her friend. And look where that got her.

Vi’s anger still boiled and roiled underneath her skin. She had grown at least a little in the time she’s been here. She almost didn’t recognize herself, but then again, she was reborn. She shouldn’t recognize herself. She should take this chance and become who she really is, what she wants to be. And that was with Stormrift. She looked up to them, strong women who fight their own battles.

Even so she couldn’t completely let the past go. While she loathed royalty and grandeur, she was looking for someone while she was here. This would be the best chance she got at finding her. She just wasn’t quite sure if she wished to see her or not. She felt guilty for what had happened that night, and was worried Marcia would hate her for it. For not doing more.

Vi shook her head trying to get the thoughts to cease. But soon enough they drew near to the celebration and Vi’s eyes widened in surprise. Wolves, so many wolves! Millions of scents assaulted her nose all at once and it scrunched at the violation. Stay near, Gjalla had said, and that was easy for Vi to do. She wasn’t too keen on socializing. Shivers ran down her spine at the thought of being alone with a man. She pushed those thoughts deep down. She had claws now and she would be damned if she wasn’t going to use them if she needed to.