POV: Elara
Elara had heard of fate. Believed in it. But never expected it to strike the moment she entered a garden full of royalty.
She’d just turned eighteen. The Naming Ceremony was supposed to be a formality—meet Nova’s new pups, offer blessings from her father's pack, and return home.
Then she saw him.
Logan. Beta to King Max. Tall, quiet, dangerous. With eyes like storm clouds before a break.
Her wolf, Ashra, screamed Mate before she could take a full breath. Her knees nearly buckled. Not from fear—but from the sheer intensity of the bond.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak for a moment. Just looked at her like she was both a puzzle and a miracle.
That night blurred with well-wishers and palace music, but Elara’s focus kept drifting. To the way Logan kept the perimeter in check.
