Author's pov
Nearly three decades had passed, but Esther Moore recognized him the second their eyes met.
Zane Locke.
Time had added some lines to his face and silver to his temples, but his posture was still regal, his presence unmistakable.
He hadn't lost the quiet gravity that once made people pause mid-sentence when he entered a room.
And yet - he was standing here, surrounded by boxes of jasmine rice and organic quinoa, looking at her like she was a ghost from a life he barely remembered but couldn't ignore.
Zane Locke.
The eldest son of the Locke family - a name whispered with a certain reverence in political circles, and, less publicly, among those who managed the fragile relationship between werewolf clans and the human world.
VanDyck and Cecilia had no idea what to make of
