Page 8 of Howling Love (Hunter’s Moon Ritual #1)

Her complexion was a warm, sun-kissed amber, and her thick, dark hair was pulled away from her face and decorated with gold beads. She wore a deep emerald gown, cut to show off her athletic figure and the gold tattoos etched into her skin.

Everything about the woman exuded strength and purpose. She was completely unafraid to stand in the presence of these men, effortlessly dominating them.

“She doesn’t care,” Alpha Ivan said dismissively. “And I’m shocked you didn’t send your mate to handle things here, Alpha Haiden. Surely you have other, more important matters to handle.”

“No. I don’t.” She turned to me, dismissing Alpha Ivan out of hand. “I’ve never seen you with Ivan before. What’s your name?”

Alpha Ivan squeezed so hard I nearly gasped. The message was clear: do not answer.

Alpha Haiden received the message too.

“Right,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing on Alpha Ivan. “It would be wise to treat your mate better around me, Ivan. You know how I feel about these things.”

Then she was gone, and I took a deep breath as Alpha Ivan’s grip relaxed. It felt like I had an axe hanging over my throat, the physical threat right within reach. If he wanted to, Alpha Ivan could snap my neck with his bare hands.

Alpha Chace turned back to the line, clearly done with Alphas Ivan and Graeme, but the man next to me was livid. I could practically hear his wolf growling. I really appreciated Haiden’s concern, but it would only make things worse for me if she continued.

“Where is Waylon or Deegan?” Graeme’s question was quiet but seemed to summon the first. I was surprised, because while I knew it was Waylon—the purple and gold dragon crest and the type of power coming off of him giving him away—he didn’t appear nearly as old as I’d been told.

If I had to place him, I’d say he was in his mid-fifties.

Then again, appearance didn’t always correlate with age when it came to shifters.

His angular face had scales running along the cheekbones, glinting green against his olive complexion, and his black hair was braided down his back, intertwined with a gold ribbon.

The man had a dignified and elegant presence as he greeted our host before taking his place in line.

“Old man thinks he’s better than everyone,” Graeme grumbled, and my eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t be older than Graeme…right? That didn’t seem possible.

“He would be a good trading partner, though. Lots of experience,” Alpha Ivan admitted.

I pressed my lips together, keeping my reaction neutral, not wanting to give any indication of how I felt.

While the idea of being sold off like livestock was repulsive, from what I could tell, Alpha Waylon seemed…

okay. And okay was better than cruel. It was better than fear. I could survive “okay.”

I was so trapped in thought that I didn’t realize we had begun a processional into the hall where others were gathered—dignitaries and members of each territory who had come to the conference.

I shifted nervously on my feet, but Alpha Ivan’s hand tightened on my neck to stop me.

So I switched to trying to take calm, deep breaths without him realizing it.

When it was our turn, I focused my gaze straight ahead to the table we would be sitting at.

Eight large chairs with smaller ones to the right of each.

As the table filled in and Alpha Ivan was announced—my name completely absent, unlike some of the other companions in attendance—I noted that there were four seats open.

Two for us and two for the missing pack.

The Ironsun Pack. The one Velina made clear that she hated.

We received limited applause, and when we arrived at our seats, I thought the doors would close and the opening ceremony would start. I’d assumed the other pack just wasn’t coming.

I was wrong.

Alpha Ivan tensed next to me, a sound of disgust leaving him as a final announcement was made: “And finally, we would like to welcome the Ironsun Pack, represented by Ravik Gentry.”

Ravik . My gaze slowly rose from my lap to see who belonged to the name that had caught my attention. Not just mine, but my wolf’s as well.

A sound like cracking thunder echoed in my ears as something fractured inside me, breaking loose. Something that wanted to rush forward, to greet this man…this Ravik . I felt breathless, frozen as golden eyes locked with mine from across the room.

An explosion of heat bloomed through my chest, my heart pounding so violently it made me tremble. The world turned fuzzy around the edges, and molten energy invaded my limbs, making my fingers tingle.

The power Ravik carried was unlike anything I’d ever felt. And as he strode through the double doors, his massive stature seeming to shrink the space, his gaze never left mine.

Easily in his late twenties, the man carried himself like a king. The room roared in applause at his presence, but he barely seemed to notice. Instead he was completely focused on me, and I allowed myself a breathless second to appreciate how beautiful he was.

Ravik’s golden skin seemed to warm under the light that streamed through the windows.

His jaw was covered in a neat beard the same color as the chocolate-toned waves of his hair, which shimmered faintly with gold.

He wore a blood red military uniform accented with gold, and his crest—a dangerous-looking wolf—stood proudly on the right side of his chest.

I’d never seen, or experienced, anyone like him before.

Who was this man?