Elara didn't have her own clothes, but she didn't care. She found a pair of black tailored trousers in Lucian’s closet that she belted tightly at her waist, pairing them with a sleek, dark gray cashmere turtleneck.
She looked at herself in the massive bathroom mirror. The collar of the sweater hid the twin crescent puncture wounds on her neck, but it couldn't hide the change in her eyes. She didn't look like the broken, betrayed girl from Paris anymore. She looked sharp. Dangerous. She looked like a Luna.
When she walked out into the bedroom, Lucian was already dressed in a bespoke black suit that stretched impressively across his broad shoulders. He looked every inch the billionaire CEO, the Alpha, and the Enforcer all rolled into one lethal package.
The moment he saw her, his amber
