Leah
Master Lindo led me into the private dressing suite at the back of his salon, racks of gowns shimmering under soft golden lights like they’d been spun from moonlight itself.
“Take your pick, Miss Leah,” he said with a gracious sweep of his hand. “Anything here is yours for the evening. Consider it part of the thanks.”
I walked the line slowly, fingers trailing over silk and satin, crystal beads and delicate embroidery.
My gaze drifted to the black shopping bag I’d carried in myself—the one Kaelen had shoved at me earlier. Moon-goddess silk, black as the night sky, scattered with tiny moonstones that caught every flicker of light and threw it back in silver sparks. The matching necklace lay coiled beside it, cool against my palm when I brushed the stones.
My wolf stirred. A low, i
