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Orion ended the call, his thoughts soon fixating on the woman below deck. His Luna. Human.

The contradiction both confused and fascinated him.

When the Moonchaser finally docked at his private pier, Orion wasted no time returning to Seraphina. She remained as he'd left her, peaceful in unconsciousness, the yellow fabric of her dress bright against the dark bedding. He gathered her in his arms, marveling again at how perfectly she fit against his chest, as though she'd been crafted specifically to nestle there.

He carried her up the winding path to his castle. Her weight barely registered to his supernatural strength, and he found himself deliberately slowing his pace to prolong their contact. Several pack members stopped to stare as he passed, no doubt catching his scent mingling with hers. Let them look, his wolf thought possessively. Let them see who their king had chosen.

The east suite waited, prepared as promised—fresh linens on the four-poster bed, a vase of island flowers on the nightstand,and the windows open to let in the ocean breeze. Orion placed Seraphina gently on the bed, carefully arranging her limbs in a comfortable position.

Alone with her in the safety of his castle, Orion allowed himself to truly look at her. The yellow sundress showcased curves that made his mouth go dry—the swell of her hips, the dip of her waist, and the fullness of her breasts rising and falling with each breath. Her black hair fanned across the pillow like spilled ink, framing a face that could've been carved by the gods themselves.

"How are you possible?" he murmured, his voice hushed in the quiet room.

He sank into the chair beside her bed, drinking in the details he hadn't been able to fully appreciate during their frantic escape. The delicate arch of her eyebrows. The soft fullness of her lips. The gentle curve of her jaw. Each feature etched itself into his memory, his wolf memorizing every aspect of their mate.

Unable to resist, Orion leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead in the lightest of kisses. Electricity jolted through him, stronger than before, a current of pure recognition that left him breathless. His wolf howled in triumph inside him.

Mine.

Yet how could a human woman be destined for an alpha wolf? Centuries of tradition stood against it. Centuries of certainty that a Luna must be a wolf to lead alongside her alpha.

But as Orion watched her sleep, her chest rising and falling in gentle rhythm, ancient traditions seemed suddenly less important than the woman before him. Human or wolf, she was his now, and he would move heaven and earth to keep her safe.

FIVE

SERAPHINA

Seraphina awoke with a gasp, and her mind immediately started racing to process her surroundings. Sunlight filtered through gauzy white curtains that danced on a salt-tinged breeze. She lay beneath crisp linens on an enormous four-poster bed, the dark mahogany frame carved with intricate patterns of what appeared to be stars and moons.

"What the hell?" she whispered, her voice startling in the quiet room.

Her fingers traced the Egyptian cotton sheets—definitely not the bargain-bin cotton she had at home. A crystal vase filled with exotic flowers she couldn't name sat on an ornate nightstand beside her. Their scent—bold and intoxicating—mingled with the fresh ocean air.

The ocean.

Seraphina pushed herself up against plush pillows, wincing at the dull throb in her head. The windows were open, revealing a panoramic view of turquoise waters stretching to the horizon as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.

"I'm not in Miami anymore," she muttered, memories flooding back. The broken window. The shadowy figure in herhome. That horrifying vision of wolves tearing through crowds of screaming people.

She pressed her palms to her eyes. "Get yourself together."

A logical explanation existed. There had to be one. Science didn't allow for wolf monsters or psychic visions or... whatever this was.

Her gaze darted around the room—tastefully decorated with art that looked expensive enough to fund her research for years. Polished hardwood floors spread beneath a plush area rug. A door that presumably led to a bathroom stood ajar, revealing marble fixtures.

"If I've been kidnapped, this is the nicest prison cell in history," she said to the empty room.

The windows weren't barred, but peering out from her position on the bed, she could tell she was fairly high up. Jumping out the window meant death or, at minimum, shattered legs.

Her mind churned through possibilities. Had she been drugged? Was this some elaborate setup?

"Think scientifically," she told herself, trying to quell the panic bubbling in her chest. "Observe. Gather data."

The sun sinking toward the horizon suggested it was early evening. She'd been unconscious for hours. She laughed at the absurdity of her situation, the sound coming out slightly hysterical. Yesterday, her biggest concern had been turning thirty without having a more adventurous lifestyle. Now, she was having visions, possibly developing psychic abilities, and waking up in what looked like a luxury island resort.

"Be careful what you wish for," she sighed, thinking about her silent birthday wish last night, wishing for something exciting to happen to her.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet meeting the cool hardwood floors. Her yellow sundress waswrinkled but intact—the same outfit she'd worn for her walk on the beach. She steadied herself against a wave of dizziness before taking better stock of her surroundings.