The morning of the alliance meeting dawned with a tense stillness that wrapped around the packhouse like a shroud. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection as my stomach churned with nerves. The simple black dress I’d chosen felt too plain, the neckline too high, the hem too long. I fussed with the fabric, wishing I had something more commanding, something that screamed Luna.
Kane entered the room behind me, his presence as steadying as a rock in a storm. His dark eyes softened as he took me in, but his lips quirked into a faint smile when he saw me fidgeting.
“You look perfect,” he said, coming to stand behind me. His large hands rested gently on my shoulders, and I felt some of my nerves ease.
“I don’t feel perfect,” I admitted, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “What if
