Jason stood still, watching her disappear into the elevator with that straight, regal posture; chin high, shoulders square, every step graceful and sure. The Luna. Even after all these years, she carried herself like the queen she once was, still untouched by time in a way that made other pack Lunas look like pretenders.
He chuckled to himself, remembering how it used to be a thing among them when they were kids. During general pack meets with other packs. It was an innocent bragging right: "My Luna's prettier than all of yours combined."
It was funny now, but back then, it had been a badge of honor. And it wasn't a lie.
Mary had always been ethereal, poised, warm but commanding. Even now, she was still one of the most beautiful women in the pack world, but the truth was plain to those who had truly known her. She has lost something.
That glow. That shine.
