As the music swelled to a dramatic crescendo, the spotlight illuminated Alpha Colyn and Lord Kealan, casting their figures in stark relief against the dimly lit dance floor. Their hands clasped together, a symbol of the fragile truce they were attempting to forge.
Alpha Colyn’s chest rose and fell with anticipation as he glanced at Lord Kealan, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. “Are you ready?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the hushed whispers of the audience.
Lord Kealan’s features hardened, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I don’t want to dance with you,” he declared, his eyes flashing with defiance as he made a move to pull away. But Alpha Colyn’s grip tightened, pulling him back into the circle of light.
“We have to dance together to make peace bet
