AMARIS’S POV
There was a freaking dessert bar in the limo. Multi-colored macarons were laid out prettily on a gold-edged platter. They stared right back at me, teasing the ravenous hunger in my stomach.
I resisted the urge to snag a snack from the bar.
I was in the backseat of one of the Romanovs’ official limousines. The car had been in transit for a while now, yet I had barely found a way to relax.
I was still very much in flight mode, replaying everything that had happened to me in the space of an evening.
From being selected as Luna of the pack to my heated argument with the Romanov brothers to locking eyes with Tobias—I was literally exhausted.
The limousine suddenly came to a halt. I peered at the driver through the rectangular glass case.
“Sorry, but why have we stopped?”
