The gala is a distant murmur. Our words come in whispers, wrapped in the velvet of secrets. The world beyond the curtain fades; we are an island of two in a sea of strangers. Lucas shifts the conversation from work to beliefs, the change almost imperceptible, like the glide of silk over skin.
"The system fails the vulnerable," he says, and I can't decide if he knows my secrets or just my fears. His voice drops lower, inviting me to share more than I'm ready for. My instinct is to pull back, but the invitation is too tempting. I edge closer instead, careful not to give too much.
"Justice is a luxury," I tell him, offering my own view, wondering if it reveals more than I intend. My wolf stirs uneasily, caught between wanting him closer and pushing him away.
"Protection shouldn't be," Luca
