Fiona's POV
The morning air was cool and crisp, a faint mist lingering over the courtyard preparations for the coronation were underway. I stood on the balcony of my chambers, overlooking the bustling activity below. Wolves, in both human and shifter forms, scurried to and fro, setting up the ceremonial arena.
I should have felt proud, perhaps even excited. Yet all I felt was the heavy weight of impending doom. Last night's news about Sabrina's shadow wolves haunted me. What did it mean to be crowned queen in the middle of such chaos?
"Still worrying, my queen?" Sebastian's voice rumbled softly behind me.
I turned to see him leaning casually against the doorway, dressed in his ceremonial black and gold attire. The fitted jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, and the silver crown resting in his hands gleamed under the sunlight.
"Hard not to," I admitted, my voice subdued. "How can we celebrate when danger is knocking at our borders?"