The cool air hit Mia’s skin as she stepped into the garden. Wait, the garden? How did she get here?
But the how didn't really matter. What mattered was the good-looking man walking beside her, chatting and clearly trying to impress her with whatever story he was telling.
She wasn't really listening. She wasn't hearing what he was saying. She had even forgotten his name. But all she knew was that he was a Lupinarian. Because no man from her pack would approach her.
She couldn't even remember what he had said to her when he approached her, only that it was something flirty—her head was spinning from too much drink, from the warmth of laughter still echoing from behind them, and the heat crawling up her spine.
Oh no, wait. That wasn't heat; it was the man’s hand. He had her back again
