Page 7

"Indeed," my grandmother says, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Which is why certain... adjustments have been made to the traditional trials, though the trials will proceed nonetheless, as they did fifty years ago.

These are uncertain times. Dark forces gather at our borders.

We cannot afford to cling to old prejudices. "

More murmurs. Victoria rarely speaks so directly of threats, and I find myself unhappy that she’s done so without consulting me first. I catch Thomas's eye across the room, seeing my own concern reflected there.

What does she know that she's not telling us, and why is she speaking about this without my approval?

The meeting continues, but that thick tension of before still hangs heavy in the air.

I barely register the rest of the proceedings, too aware of Luna's presence, of every small movement she makes.

When she shifts her weight, the dress pulls tight across her hips.

When she runs a hand through her hair, my wolf remembers how that hair felt spread across my pillows.

When she licks her lips nervously, I have to grip my chair to stay seated.

Stop torturing yourself, I think. But I can't help imagining how easy it would be to pull her into one of the private council rooms, to press her against the wall and taste her again.

To see if she still makes those soft gasping sounds when I kiss her neck.

To find out if her magic still explodes when she comes. ..

Finally, Victoria concludes the formal announcements. The pack begins to disperse, breaking into small groups to discuss the revelations. Luna turns to leave with her friend, but I'm moving before I can stop myself, Alpha dignity be damned.

"Luna." My voice freezes her mid-step. Even saying her name feels dangerous, like striking a match near gunpowder. "A word?"

Ruby squeezes her arm and slips away, leaving us alone in the rapidly emptying hall.

Luna turns slowly, and the sight of her up close nearly stops my breath.

Her scent surrounds me—lavender and sage and woman, with an undertone of arousal she can't quite hide.

My wolf goes crazy, recognizing that scent from countless secret meetings.

"Alpha." Her voice carries just a hint of mockery.

The formal title stings more than it should. "I think we're past that, don't you?"

"Are we? You made the boundaries pretty clear last time we spoke. And it’s new.

It still doesn’t look like you’re used to the title.

" Her voice is steady, but magic crackles around her like static electricity.

The power of it calls to my wolf, making him strain against my control. "What do you want, Nic?"

What do I want? To apologize. To explain.

To pull her into my arms and never let go.

To peel that blue dress off slowly, rediscovering every curve I was stupid enough to give up.

My wolf howls agreement, pushing against my control.

She's so close, close enough to touch. Close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose that I used to kiss, the tiny scar above her eyebrow from a childhood fall, the pulse beating rapidly in her throat.

"You've changed," I say instead, hating how rough my voice sounds.

"That's what happens when you have to rebuild your life from scratch." Her hands clench at her sides. The movement draws my attention to her fingers, and my wolf remembers how those hands felt dragging down his back, leaving marks we wore proudly. "Was that all?"

"Luna, about what happened—"

"Don't." Her ferocity makes my wolf wild with want. Hybrid or not, she's magnificent when she's angry. I want to quash that anger, want to hold her against the wall and ruin her. "We are not having this conversation. Not now, not ever. You made your choice five years ago. I've made mine."

She turns to leave, but I catch her arm before I can stop myself.

The contact sends electricity shooting through me.

Her magic surges in response, and for a moment, the air between us is thick with power and possibility.

With memory. Her skin is soft under my fingers, but I can feel the strength in her, the steel core that helped her survive everything the pack threw at her.

"Let go," she whispers, but she doesn't pull away. Her pulse races under my fingers, and I catch a fresh wave of her arousal. She might hate me, but her body still remembers us.

"Luna.” Her name comes out as a growl. My wolf is so close to the surface that I know my eyes must be glowing. Part of me hopes she'll try to pull free, give me an excuse to pull her closer, to remind her how perfectly we fit together. “I just want to talk.”

For a heartbeat, we're frozen in that moment of tension. I can smell something mixing with anger and see how her pupils dilate. The way her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

Part of her still wants me. The knowledge makes my wolf wild with triumph.

Then she yanks her arm free, and the spell breaks. "Stay away from me, Nic. I mean it."

She practically runs from the hall, leaving me with the ghost of her touch and the lingering scent of lavender and desire. My wolf whines in protest, already missing her warmth. Even her anger was better than this absence.

Down, I tell him, and I know it’s a lie. There will be no talk, no second chance, no soon. I’m about to be mated to another woman, a woman I won’t get to choose. And then Luna will be gone again, this time for good.

But even as I watch her disappear into the afternoon sunlight, her dress swaying enticingly with each step, I can't help wondering—if I'd made a different choice that night, would she still be mine?

Would I be able to follow her now, to wrap her in my arms and bury my face in her hair?

To tell her how every day without her has felt wrong, how my wolf has never stopped howling for her?

I have a pack to run. Threats to handle. A lottery to oversee. I shake myself and move, striding from the room, head held high.

But even as I return to my office, her scent clings to my fingers where I touched her arm. My wolf savors it, hoarding the memory like precious gold.