Ava's POV
"Hold still, my lady, or this crown will slip before it even sits on your head."
I laughed under my breath, even though my stomach was a mess of knots. The maids fluttered around me like anxious birds, tugging, smoothing, pinning—making sure every fold of silk and every strand of hair obeyed their will. My reflection in the mirror looked like someone else. The deep emerald gown, embroidered with golden threads, clung perfectly to my frame. My dark hair fell in waves, pinned back just enough to reveal my face, yet free enough to look soft, regal.
A Luna-to-be. The Alpha King’s Luna.
I swallowed, pressing my palms against my knees as I sat still on the velvet chair. Could I really stand this? The crown. The weight of the title. The endless eyes that would follow my every move.
