“Are you ready, Arwen?” Zion’s voice was soft at the doorway, breaking the silence filled only by the rustle of fabric and the faint chime of jewelry.
Arwen turned slowly. The sapphire-blue gown that wrapped around her body shimmered under the candlelight from the crystal lamp above.
Her eyes met Zion’s—calm yet piercing. The eyes of an Alpha who had survived countless wars, but now surrendered to one woman.
“I don’t know if ready is the right word,” she murmured, a faint smile on her lips. “I’m not used to being the center of attention.”
Zion stepped closer, his fingers gently adjusting the ribbon on her shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend to be the perfect Luna tonight,” he whispered. “You just have to be yourself. That’s enough—for them, and for me.”
Arwen looked up at him. There
