I watched her fingers wrap around the stem of her wine glass, each movement delicate yet purposeful, like everything else about her. My mate. The thought still sent lightning through my veins, a current of disbelief and wonder that had been coursing through me since that moment when our eyes first locked. The Moon Goddess had finally answered prayers I'd almost stopped uttering. Two hundred years of waiting, and now she stood before me—Emeline Maxwell, with her watchful green eyes and guarded smile. My destined Queen. If only I could convince her to accept what fate had written for us.
She took a measured sip of her wine, her gaze sweeping across the ballroom as if cataloging exits and potential threats. Even in this moment of supposed relaxation, she remained the vigilant gamma. Somethin
