I was mid-spin again, hair whipping across my bare back, when my wolf perked up.
My body went still before my mind caught up. Inside me, she lifted her head as if she’d caught a scent only she could name.
There.
I turned.
Lucian stood a step behind me, and for a heartbeat, everything else—music, lights, bodies—fell away like someone had turned the volume down on the world.
He wasn’t dressed like the banquet night. But he still looked like him in a way that made my pulse stumble: tailored black that fit his shoulders like it had been built for him, collar open just enough to feel dangerous without trying. His hair was pulled back again, not as rigidly as the ball. Gray eyes locked on mine with a focus so intense it made my skin prickle.
He looked at me like I was the only still thing
