Zolani’s POV
Downstairs was alive, I could hear music pulsing through the floorboards, laughter rolling, voices overlapping in a dozen languages, glasses clinking, and boots stomping.
The energy leaked up the stairs and it was tempting, promising fun, connection, chaos. I wanted to be part of it. I wanted to walk in, smile, dance, let myself get swept up in the madness of a werewolf post wedding celebration.
But my feet wouldn’t move.
This was Aradia’s night. Her grooms had arrived hours ago, and the three of them were probably tangled up somewhere in the crowd, laughing, kissing, being the center of everything. She didn’t need to babysit me. She shouldn’t have to.
And that left me… alone.
Not just alone in a room.
Alone in a house full of wolves who weren’t human, who scented ev
